More Than Expected
by Clover Bay
Summary: An interfering Ministry of Magic has once again descended upon Hogwarts. With the professors focused on the Ministry, a dark plot aimed at Severus Snape unfolds as he and Hogwarts' newest professor, Hermione Granger, discover a spark that draws them together. AU Hermione/Severus. Re-posted.
1. Chapter 1

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

**Summary:** _As another school year ends and the summer break begins, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore finds himself needing to hire a new Charms Professor. A relatively unknown applicant, Hermione Granger emerges as the premier candidate for the teaching position._

_Potions Master Severus Snape is intrigued by his newest colleague and can't help but want to get to know her better. She, too, feels drawn to him as they spend more time together in the castle._

_The Ministry of Magic, much to the dismay of the Hogwarts' staff, is once again trying to garner some control over the school by issuing a new decree to insure that the staff's teaching is up to par. The additional interference from the Ministry may put Severus and Hermione's budding relationship on hold as they struggle to fulfill the new requirements._

_Looming in the shadows of Hogwarts is an unknown villain whose sights are set on the newest teacher as well as the Potion's Master with a haunted, darker past._

**Author's Note:** This post-war story is not fully DH compliant in that neither Dumbledore nor Snape are dead. In an effort to avoid the baggage of Snape being Hermione's former teacher, she did not attend Hogwarts as a student and she has no prior entanglements with the British wizarding world.

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

_Hogwarts_

_Accepting_

_Charms_

Simultaneously, four people read the short advertisement in the Daily Prophet: one knowing the listing verbatim as he had submitted it, two who had been anticipating its arrival since the beginning of the summer, and the other who had barely finished reading it before rushing to update her resume.

* * *

Many of the Hogwarts professors vacated the ancient castle to enjoy the precious few weeks of summer before returning to begin again in the fall. For the Headmaster and his deputies currently sitting in the Great Hall, though, another season of work was underway. Their task of finding a new Charms Professor highlighted the morning's breakfast conversation.

"Really, Albus," Minerva McGonagall said with an air of impatience, "this has to be the smallest ad in the entire paper. And I don't just mean the brief description, the writing is tiny."

"As much as I would rather disagree with the _esteemed_ head of Gryffindor, Minerva does have a point." The reluctance in Severus Snape's tone almost masked the sarcasm of his words - almost, but not quite.

With a barely smothered chuckle, Professor Dumbledore reminded them of their own applications to Hogwarts. "As I'm sure you both remember, the advertisements are concealed within the word 'Hogwarts'. Only an exceptionally trained Charms master will be able to fully read it, just as you were among the few able to reveal the transfiguration and potions openings those years ago."

"I'd forgotten that . . . and not a single word from you, Severus."

Severus never missed an opportunity to rile up Minerva. However, not all things needed to be said, so he settled for a smirk that conveyed every unspoken word.

The three leaders of Hogwarts were very much like a family. There was no mistaking that Dumbledore was in charge, nor that he trusted and relied heavily on his two deputies. For her part, McGonagall had long since moved past the days in which she was Severus's professor and had embodied the role of colleague and good-natured adversary, at least in all things house-related. Severus's tenure and professional life at the school had earned him equal status with the formidable witch who was currently sitting on the other side of Dumbledore. The two bickered among themselves but fiercely defended the other whenever necessary.

As they enjoyed the remainder of their meal, Hermione Granger sat at the table in her parents' kitchen gently blowing the last of the ink dry as she proof read her resume and cover letter one more time. A half-hour earlier she had been combing through the help wanted pages of the Daily Prophet when she read a curious ad that contained only three words: Hogwarts - Accepting - Charms. She knew that they charged by the word and that it was a widely circulated paper, but something just seemed a bit odd; surely a school like Hogwarts could afford to print a full advertisement.

Tapping her finger against her lips, she decided to try something. After placing a complex charm on the paper, the advertisement expanded to reveal a lengthier, more elaborate listing:

_Hogwarts is currently accepting applications for the post of Charms Master or Mistress_

_Time is of the essence as the term begins September the first_

_Send inquiries to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

_We expect your owl within the hour_

Almost forty-five minutes had elapsed since she opened the paper; rather than miss the one-hour mark, Hermione aparated to a small town near the school. Hogsmeade was, among other things, the nearest post with delivery owls. While she couldn't figure out the significance of the mysterious deadline, which for some reason seemed vital to the application, Hermione wasted no time in tying the scrolls to one of the quicker owls to make the now short delivery.

It felt really good watching the owl disappear into the distance. Having earned her charms masters only a few months ago, Hermione knew that she didn't want to wait any longer to get back in the classroom. She'd loved every minute of her challenging apprenticeship and couldn't imagine what the fall term would feel like if she wasn't teaching.

She'd been searching every day in hopes of finding an opening like this. It was heart-wrenching to think that the dream she'd so ardently pursued might end with her studies - going unfulfilled for even a year was unimaginable.

In a moment of panic, she thought _What if her resume wasn't good enough? Would they even consider someone who wasn't a Hogwarts alum? Maybe it was just an obligatory posting and they already had someone in mind for the position . . ._ Ugh! This only made her feel worse.

Shaking off her insecurities, Hermione tried to remind herself of the strengths listed in the letter she penned earlier this morning. With a small smile, she returned to London.

No sooner had Hermione left the little village than Dumbledore unfurled the parchment attached to an owl he recognized as the fastest among those perched for use at the Hogsmeade post. The letter seemed particularly thick to the deputies and it wasn't until Dumbledore chuckled, revealing the resume sent in triplicate that the volume of the correspondence made sense.

"She certainly must be talented to discover so much from so little," he said cryptically.

With a flourish of robes, he descended the steps of the Great Hall leaving his two deputies intrigued by the witch who rendered the power to impress the headmaster with only a letter.


	2. Chapter 2

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Severus and Minerva sat at a small table in her office pouring over the extensive resume submitted by Ms. Hermione Granger. Each was lost in their own thoughts as they more often than not raised lukewarm teacups only to lower them without drinking. They had been impressed enough by her status as valedictorian of her graduating class, but being the best of an unknown group held very little weight with them. The letter of recommendation from her Charms Master during her apprenticeship, however, left them both speechless.

Attached to her resume was a parchment filled with miniature magazine covers with accompanying abstracts of articles that Ms. Granger had written for the publications. While two smaller ones outlined new techniques implemented in the field of education, the majority were from Charms periodicals.

Minerva sat leaning forward as she read aloud a portion of one of the articles, " . . . _invoking the charms in ascending order strengthens their effectiveness thus resulting in fewer applications to achieve the desired outcome _. . . ."

"Severus, this is brilliant. Assuming her hypothesis is correct, which is highly probable since it has been published in not one but _two _journals, this could revolutionize the use of charms in almost every aspect of . . . well, everything. Imagine, not having to re-cast disillusionment charms, levitating charms, and . ." her voice faded off as she continued to read.

He missed most of her monologue having been consumed by the article in front of him: _Removing dark influences, spells, and resulting designations of such, when combined with a cleansing potion, could be achieved by adding the newly created charm . . . ._ If what he was reading could in fact be recreated, then the charm combined with this potion had the potential to rid those who had unwittingly been made into horcruxes free from their power. And . . .

Minerva looked up suddenly as she heard Severus gasp and grip his left arm. "It can't be," she whispered with a look of worry marring her face. "Severus, tell me it isn't hurting again - you're not being summoned."

Meeting her gaze, Severus opened his mouth to find his voice suddenly absent. Clearing his throat, he tried a second time and managed to say, "She's found a way to get rid of the dark mark."

Hermione and Dumbledore were currently meeting in the headmaster's office. Their introductions had gone well and the lengthy walk through the castle had given them the opportunity to find that they had, surprisingly enough, a shared love of muggle candies. She'd laughed when he divulged that piece of information as if he were revealing a secret and explained just as conspiratorially that she, too, was surrounded by people who didn't see the appeal of the sweets.

Their trek through the castle gave her ample time to observe the headmaster, deciding that he was a genial and pleasant man.

She knew that he was observing her, too, so she maintained a sense of decorum appropriate for that of a prospective teacher rather than someone looking for a life-long friend. Her robes were immaculate and had been ironed by hand, the muggle way, the night before. She had chosen her make-up to be flattering but not over-done. She could only imagine how that would have been received - who would want to hire a trollop or at least someone parading as one to teach in a school? She prided herself on her professionalism: in her speech and appearance; this was certainly the time to accentuate this strength.

Once they began the interview in earnest, Hermione had to fight the temptation to gawk at the collection of priceless magical tools adorning the spacious office. Focusing on the man in front of her, she began to field his questions as candidly and honestly as possible.

"I see that you have recently completed a teaching internship as a part of your studies," he said with an inflection that implied it was more than a statement and he wanted her to elaborate.

Her answers flowed easily and it wasn't until a knock resonated through the office that her nervousness started to reappear. The audience tripled in size when the two deputies entered, joining them for the remainder of the interview.

She had to clamp her hands together in her lap to prevent the slight shaking that accompanied her nerves. The last interview of this magnitude she'd been a part of ended with Professor Whitehall offering her an apprenticeship. The logical part of her brain knew that her only other significant audience had been just as important, but that did nothing to calm the butterflies that had suddenly turned to dragons in her stomach.

There was an intimidating air to the witch introduced as McGonagall; she had smiled in a kindly manner but her questions had just as much weight to them as Dumbledore's.

The hardest person in the room to read, though, was Professor Snape; his words were on par with the others, but his expressions were difficult to decipher. Hermione felt that every time she fidgeted with her hands or had to moisten her overly dry lips he, especially, was watching.

From across the room, Severus carefully studied Ms. Granger. He'd relied upon his training as a spy to keep the shock from registering on his face when he entered Dumbledore's office. The research he'd been reading earlier with McGonagall left him picturing a witch much like Minerva - wizened with age and, frankly, more concerned with her scholarship than her appearance; instead he found the beautiful woman perched on the edge of her seat exuding a softer confidence.

He mentally shook himself as he regrouped his thoughts; it wasn't her appearance alone that surprised him. His mind was still reeling from the information he had gleaned in the latest of Ms. Granger's articles. But, he had to focus on the remainder of the interview.

Severus wanted to glare at Minerva when he heard her ask, "How do you plan to make the Charms classes not only a required course but a part of the greater Hogwarts curriculum?" It was a good question, one under other circumstances he might have thought to ask, but loaded none-the-less.

"Charms and the teaching of charms is something I'm passionate about. I hope to inspire those under my charge to love the discipline as much as I do. Inevitably there will be students who don't share this opinion, but I do plan to convey the usefulness of charms to each student.

"One way to do this is by coordinating lessons that will be useful in other courses. For example, I would ask Professor Snape when his students would begin using Stasis charms to preserve their potions and teach the charms in advance of that. The students will see the interdependency of our courses and, ideally, become more proficient in them."

Ms. Granger's fluent answer left them momentarily silent in contemplation of the proposed idea. It certainly would be nice to have a fresh perspective and face in the castle.

Absent-mindedly Severus reached again for his left arm, letting his hand linger there for only a moment. But, it was an action that caught the headmaster's eye.

"Ms. Granger . . ."

"Hermione, please," she requested.

Smiling and with a brightness to his eyes, Dumbledore continued, "Hermione, at the risk of offending you,I must ask - are you or have you ever been a supporter of Voldemort and his Death Eaters? Do you carry the mark?"

"No. To all of the above. I understand the need for this line of questioning, but I don't think the two necessarily go together."

With a pensive expression, Hermione carefully said, "Loyalty is more than a mark, or lack thereof." She shook the sleeves of her robes allowing them to slide toward her elbows as she revealed her unblemished forearms.

If Severus wasn't impressed before, he certainly was now. The witch seemed to read the very thoughts in his head. His loyalty never did lie with the Dark Lord; he only considered himself a dark follower for the briefest period before changing his standing. One did not need to be free of the mark to be free of Voldemort, a fact on which he prided himself. But, regardless, Hermione freely showed all three of them her unstained arms with an air of understanding and honesty.

The atmosphere lightened considerably and it was as if everyone in the room, save for Dumbledore who seemed rather unfazed by anything this morning, relaxed a bit. They had found common ground beyond teaching and academia.

Before the interview concluded, Hermione had asked only two things: could she see the classroom and would she be notified regardless of their decision for the new charms professor.

Over tea later that afternoon, the three leaders of Hogwarts sat discussing Ms. Granger.

"It takes a talented Charms master to read the request, but a truly gifted one to meet the guidelines of the listing." Severus and Minerva had long since stopped expecting Dumbledore to speak clearly. His cryptic answers, however, were no less frustrating than ever.

"I think she would be an asset to the school," Minerva said with a heavy Scottish lilt. "I am curious about one thing, though. I noticed you didn't give her the 'Hogwarts is a family' speech."

"Quite perceptive as always, Minerva. Before you two joined us, Ms. Granger impressed upon me how she wanted to be a 'teammate' as she called it. I believe her exact words were 'I want to be a part of Hogwarts, not just an occupant of one of its classrooms.'"

"What about you Severus? What is your opinion on the matter?"

"She certainly has the credentials to . . ."

Minerva interrupted him, "Oh Severus, don't become wordy now. You're intrigued, we all are. Just say what's on your mind."

The glare she received would have made a lesser witch turn and run; instead, she raised her cup, sipping the hot tea and looking directly at him.

"As I was saying, she certainly has the credentials and training to teach here and . . . ." For the second time today, he found himself at a loss for words. He was more than impressed with her, and he found his thoughts drifting back to her flawless interview. Hogwarts would benefit from her presence, and he hoped he might as well.

Severus cleared his throat, realizing both Headmaster and fellow instructor were watching him. "I don't see any reason we shouldn't hire her."

"Then we are in agreement - Hermione Granger will become the Charms professor," Dumbledore said as he raised his tea cup in a strange toast to their decision.

_Ms. Hermione Granger,_

_Upon thoughtful review of your application, resume, and interview, we are pleased to offer you the post of Charms Professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_Professor Snape will be in Diagon Alley in two weeks time to accompany you in making purchases for the upcoming year. He will provide the details for proper billing and payment for any necessary teaching supplies._

_The Hogwarts staff reconvenes for the school year on August 1__st__ with a flexible schedule for the duration of the month. Students will arrive on September 1__st__ with classes beginning on the second. _

_As a staff member, you will be joining the Hogwarts professors as we attend the Ministry of Magic's Fall Gala. This is a formal event that will include, among other things, announcements and decrees that have gone into effect over the course of the summer. Rarely do these affect Hogwarts directly, but it has become custom for us to attend._

_We eagerly await your reply and warmly welcome you to the Hogwarts family._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts_

* * *

From a back room in a darkened Knockturn Alley shop, a man paced back and forth with only a flickering candle for light. Too long had he waited for vengeance, too long had he plotted his revenge. Severus Snape was no better than any of the other Death Eaters, yet he had escaped punishment. As he passed a cracked mirror, he paused - the reflection looking back at him merely smirked as he thought _the time is drawing near . . ._


	3. Chapter 3

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Severus arrived in Diagon Alley a few minutes before seven. Normally, he would show up exactly at the pre-determined time and not a moment before. But he couldn't deny he was still intrigued by Ms. Granger.

Dumbledore informed him last week that he had been 'volunteered' as the old man had put it to help her purchase supplies for the new year. He'd been a bit surprised by how bare the classroom was when they took her to look around. No wonder she wanted to get an early start with the preparations for the new school year.

He couldn't blame Dumbledore for sending someone to accompany her; in the past few years, the position of Charms professor had become something of a revolving door reminiscent of the once infamous Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Neither the headmaster nor his deputies trusted the outgoing professor to adequately supply the room for the next year, so they had delayed the purchases until a suitable professor could be found.

And, after seeing the classroom, Severus was sure that his hand would be tired from signing all of the purchase authorizations today. This brought a small smile to his face as he thought about having the opportunity to get to know her better. It would be a long morning and he couldn't wait to get started.

As he walked toward the steps of Gringotts bank, Severus saw her patiently waiting for him. Now that _was_ a nice change. Not only was she punctual but she had made sure not to waste his time by being late.

"Professor Snape," Hermione stepped forward, extending her hand to shake his.

Her smile was genuine and he recognized a sparkle in her eyes that belied her excitement. "Professor Granger," he returned with a slight bow as he shook her hand; he was pleased to see her smile brighten.

"I'm going to have to get used to that - Professor Granger."

With an understanding nod, he knew very well what she meant. "Trust me, soon you'll be surrounded by people who are in constant need of attention and help from 'Professor Granger'. It'll become more of a rarity to hear your own first name."

"I can't wait."

Clearing his throat, he continued with the task at hand. "Thank you for meeting me so early. From my experience, it's much easier to shop before Diagon Alley gets too crowded, not to mention the afternoon heat."

"Oh, I agree. I'm much more productive in the mornings and we'll be able to get more accomplished since the shops have just opened."

He watched as Hermione pulled out a neatly written list of things she wanted to purchase. He'd assumed correctly - they would be here all morning _if_ they hurried. "Let's start here with Eyelops since it's closest and we can work our way down the Alley. The owner has a long-standing agreement with Hogwarts to donate feathers shed by the owls."

"Sounds like a plan."

Now this was exactly the type of thing Severus could appreciate: no-nonsense or dallying around. One of the things he had been leery about when Albus mentioned the trip was the indecisiveness involved. His observations of women shopping left much to be desired. Clearly Ms. Granger was different.

When they had collected the bags of feathers and shrunk them to a more manageable size, Severus withdrew a black, cloth bag with a golden draw-string and full color Hogwarts crests on the front and back. "Each of the professors at Hogwarts has a bag similar to this. Take it with you when you make school related purchases and it will be able to expand to hold all of your items easily."

Taking a step closer to her, he lowered his voice to add, "Many of the vendors here and in other areas of Britain will recognize this bag and provide you with better quality products than if you were to be without it. So, take care to have it with you whenever you are on school business."

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned toward him to catch the last of his explanation. She made a mental note to keep the small bag in her pocket each time she left the castle during the school year; after all, you never know when you'll find something that can be used in class.

"We may test its depth today," she joked raising her arm as it dangled from her wrist.

"With that list you certainly may," he replied in what he hoped was a humorous tone.

Her soft laughter reassured him that he hadn't offended her. "I've used mine many times with, believe it or not, lists much longer than your own and haven't filled it yet."

"I'll take that as a challenge, then, and try harder in the future . . ." she trailed off as they entered the next store.

Their conversations during the morning had given them many opportunities to discuss their training and research, though Severus hadn't yet broached the topic of the charm-potion combination that could remove the Dark Mark, nor had they discussed much about themselves away from the academic arena.

Time seemed to pass quickly as they walked down one side of the cobbled street and back up the other. The late July heat became more noticeable as they neared lunch time. With one last stop to make, they ducked into Flourish and Blotts to get the remaining books on Hermione's list.

Hermione found the Charms section of the book shop while Severus veered toward the Potions aisle. He knew it would take a while for her to make the numerous selections she needed so he took his time reading the covers of the newest editions of the Potions texts he'd asked the store to order.

It struck him as unusual to have had such a relaxing day helping someone else. He wouldn't call himself selfish, but it was rare for him to have the opportunity to spend any of his time like this. It felt almost - domestic. This was a rare emotion, one that took him the better part of the four shops to figure out. As she occasionally interjected an idea for her classroom, he found himself interested enough to add his own thoughts. These exchanges felt foreign, but not unwelcome.

A while later Severus walked to the Charms aisle and saw that it was empty. He kept going toward the back of the store and found her in the used book portion of the shop.

He paused to observe her for a moment, seeing her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she swam through the unending sea of disheveled books. Her profile was so lovely and there was a tinge of pink on her cheeks as she sorted through the stack of books that had been crammed in the corner of the shop. The heat of the day and the exertion of her work made him feel silly for finding her rosy cheeks so alluring.

Hearing the shuffling of feet nearby, Hermione looked up with a guilty grin. "I just couldn't resist," she shrugged while waving a dusty hand toward the pile beside her.

Severus extended a hand to help her stand before picking up the larger of the two stacks of missed the pleased look on her face as he led the way to the front of the shop.

His taking the initiative to offer assistance was not lost on her; there was something inherently gentlemanly about the professor. All day long he had been holding the doors open for her which she found very flattering.

Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to watch where she was going and almost bumped into him when he stopped at the register.

After depositing the second stack of books onto the counter, Hermione said, "If you have any suggestions for books that might make it easier to become familiar with Hogwarts, I'd love to hear them."

"Ah, there is of course the old favorite," he said dryly but led her in the direction of the history section of the store. "_Hogwarts: A History_. The bane of all first year students due to its size and the jackpot for Flourish and Blott because it is always on the required text list for them."

"I wonder why there are so many used copies here . . ."

"When the students come to buy their second year books, they often sell them back. But, it gives an accurate overview of the castle and its history. I'm probably one of the few who actually kept their first year copy."

"I'll take your word for it then." She rose up on her tip toes to reach a used copy of the book. They really did look exactly like the new ones except the corners were a bit dented. From the look of the spines, though, they hadn't been opened many times let alone used enough to accumulate any damage.

When she struggled to reach it, Severus gracefully lifted the book from its place on the top shelf and placed it in her hands.

"You know," he said in a voice that sounded deeper when he was standing so close to her, "there are plenty of new copies. Hogwarts can certainly afford to buy a new copy for you."

"It's just a little rough around the edges; you know the old saying - 'you can't judge a book by its cover.'"

Severus's thoughts flew back to Dumbledore's interview questions regarding the Dark Mark. It was a far stretch to compare the two, but he couldn't help but notice that the sentiment was the same in both instances. If only others shared that same attitude, he would probably be able to classify more of his acquaintances as friends. Also, he couldn't help but feel as though Dumbledore had asked that question partly on his behalf; he was always telling Severus that not all witches and wizards were judgmental fools. He could practically see the old man's eyes twinkling right now.

Hermione slipped the Hogwarts bag back onto her wrist after completing her shopping. It had been a long morning, but a good one. Her companion had been very knowledgeable and helpful as they gathered everything she would need. His patience and kindness as he helped to ready her for the new year surely needed to be rewarded. She decided to invite him to have lunch with her as a token of her appreciation.

"Thank you for everything today." She paused as she tried to phrase her next question, "Would you like to join me for lunch? My treat as a kind-of thank you."

Of course he wanted to. He'd be a fool to say no. What made him hesitate to answer was this nonsense of her paying for their lunch. "That would be nice. I insist on paying, though." He guided her in the direction of _The_ _Leaky Cauldron_ with a slight pressure on her bent elbow as she continued to protest.

The good-natured fussing over the check was finally quelled when he mentioned that he should probably head back to the castle. She sent a glare in his direction that was offset by a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He merely smirked as he once again opened the door for her as she entered and proceeded to hold her chair as she sat at the small table along the wall.

As they had for most of the day, Hermione and Severus kept their conversations trained to the things associated with Professors Granger and Snape. For Hermione, she was struggling to focus on the man in her presence. While they were working on school related business, he was higher ranking; he hadn't once tried to act superior to her but Hermione felt as though it was looming in the shadows. If Professor Snape ever asked that she address him less formally, she knew it would be difficult to separate the two.

Severus had refrained from addressing her as anything less than Professor Granger in part because she had been so thrilled to be called by her new title. He could tell she liked hearing it - a huge grin blossoming on her face when she would respond. Another reason he addressed her so formally was because she hadn't yet given him permission to do otherwise. To many this would have been silly and maybe a little archaic. It was ingrained in him, though; growing up in a household with very few material possessions, his mother had always told him to take pride in his intelligence and manners - two things that could never diminish in value regardless of the circumstances. As a grown man he had never forgotten her words.

"I'm sure you've gotten your supplies for the new year already," she remarked.

"Actually, no. I planned to come back to London tomorrow to arrange for everything I'll need."

She gave him a dazzling smile as her eyes lit up with the idea that came bursting forth from her lips. "You have to allow me to help you. I know it would have taken twice as long for me if I'd been alone. Surely I could make your trip tomorrow a little easier. Besides," she added in an attempt at a convincing tone, "you haven't let me thank you with lunch so this will be my opportunity."

The sensible side to him wondered if it might not take longer since he would be distracted, but he'd had a good morning and wanted to prolong that for at least another day.

"Same time tomorrow, then," he said as he finished his cool drink.

* * *

Severus paced himself as he approached Gringotts for the second time in as many days. Unlike yesterday, he delayed his departure from the castle; he was, in many ways, looking forward to this excursion more than its predecessor but he had the awful feeling in the pit of is stomach that, should he arrive early, he would be left standing alone waiting for someone who wouldn't show.

At this point in his life he was rarely disappointed because he refused to set himself up for things and people that were less than reliable. The distance had left him a bit lonely at times, but better to have solitude and reliability than risk anything for the unknown.

He knew accepting her offer would lead to these feelings, but when she asked so earnestly he couldn't deny that he wanted to see more of her.

So, here he was, walking at almost a snail's pace as he approached the slight curve in the road that blocked the bank's steps from view.

A few more feet and it would be in sight. A few more steps and he would be disappointed once again. A few more . . . there she stood - waiting just as she said she would.

Severus didn't try to hide the small smile that found its way onto his face. He hoped she would want to be there, would want to help him; this was something that was beyond his control - and all the scarier for it. Rarely had anyone offered to help him, let alone done so of their own initiative.

"Professor Granger," he reached his hand forward, bowing slightly in acknowledgment of their greeting yesterday.

"Professor Snape," she said with a smile of her own.

And, off they went to collect supplies from the other half of Diagon Alley. Hermione hadn't realized how many stores were crammed into the shopping district, it was as if new stores materialized overnight.

Only once had she felt uncomfortable - when they ventured off of the main road and into Knockturn Alley. It was considerably darker and less friendly. She kept rubbing the back of her neck, something of a nervous habit of hers, as if she could stop that skin-crawling feeling of the 'darkness' of the area. There was also the eerie feeling that someone was watching them. Hermione knew she was probably just paranoid, but it was a bit unnerving nonetheless.

"Put your Hogwarts bag on your wrist, make it visible while we're here," Severus had told her as he walked a step closer to her. She noticed that there was no lingering here; the professor stopped at exactly three apothecaries before returning to Diagon Alley.

Once they were back in the seemingly sunnier part of London, the two found themselves deep in discussions of potions and the classes that Severus taught. Before long, he broached the subject of her latest publication.

"I almost didn't include that article in my resume. The potion relies so heavily on theory that the charm is really incomplete until it can be finished."

"What's kept you from creating the potion?" Severus asked with genuine curiosity.

With a teasing grin she began, "You've seen my credentials; Charms master I am but potioneer . . . ." She continued more thoughtfully, "Well, this particular formula has too many costly ingredients to waste on the trials and errors I would inevitably need. I've also been unable to procure adequate lab space to brew the potions. Until I can solve those problems, that particular theory will have to remain untested."

"Perhaps we could work out a solution once you join us in August."

"I'd like that."


	4. Chapter 4

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

As Hermione approached the ancient castle that is Hogwarts, she almost couldn't believe that a few short hours ago she was packing and bidding her parents goodbye. Having only stayed with them for a part of the summer while job hunting, Hermione was filled with a feeling of nostalgia rather than homesickness as she left. In her mind, she had only been visiting since she had essentially moved away years earlier to earn her Charms Master's degree.

Now, here she stood, ready to begin a new chapter in her life - Professor Granger was about to take her place among Britain's elite educators. She couldn't stop the grin from blooming on her face as the excitement overtook her. Even the butterflies in her stomach couldn't compete with the thrill of being at Hogwarts for the first time as a teacher.

Two little house elves met her inside the enchanted front doors of the castle wearing stark white togas bearing the Hogwarts crest. Their greeting was friendly, if not a little shy, before they scampered away with her luggage promising to have everything sorted when she found her living quarters later.

Despite having read _Hogwarts: A History_, nothing could prepare her for her first sight of the Great Hall; it was magnificent with its high beams, cathedral style architecture that included several stained glass windows, house banners decorating each wall, and the enchanted ceiling - it was easy to see why the book had failed to convey just how wonderful it really was. She wouldn't envy the task of trying to put something so magical into words.

The professors and staff were milling around, greeting one another after the long summer break and commiserating over the end of their vacation. Despite what the students thought, they enjoyed their time out of school as much, if not more, than the kids. As she observed those around her, Hermione saw that many of them retained that excited expression connected to the beginning of a new school year. Several appeared to have been teaching for decades, yet they looked as happy to be there as Hermione.

It wasn't long before informal introductions were made. For the most part, she was pleasantly welcomed, though she couldn't shed the feeling that some were reluctant to say much more than the casual hello. Logically, Hermione understood that the others would be more comfortable around one another since they had known one another for so long and had many shared experiences. Of course she was an outsider, but she aimed to rectify that soon; unfortunately, only time could bring about the experience she would need.

She looked around, secretly hoping to see Professor Snape somewhere among the smiling faces; she felt a small pang of disappointment until she saw him enter through a side passage accompanying the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. He had a stern, closed off expression that reminded her of the interview last month. When they made eye-contact, though, she felt a small measure of comfort at the fleeting smile that he gave her before changing back to the almost blank look as he sat beside the Headmaster.

Even though it had been more than a week since their last trip to Diagon Alley, she had instinctively sought him out. The mixed emotions that welled up within her when she thought of him confused her. She admired him for his position within the school and was grateful that he had helped her gather the things she would need for her classroom. She classified him as a friend, a work friend, but more than the new colleagues she had just met. There was something else . . Hermione genuinely enjoyed his company and that, more than anything, made his gesture all the more meaningful.

The square meeting table in the center of the Great Hall quickly started to fill and Hermione sat next to a friendly-looking witch who had been one of the more welcoming faces. She introduced herself as Pomona Sprout and, as they got settled in, Hermione thought to herself what a relief it was to meet someone so willing to help. More than once she had to lean toward Pomona and ask for clarification on something only to have the witch kindly explain certain Hogwarts' procedures.

Throughout the morning's meetings, everyone was reminded of their deadlines and assignments: turn in a year-long syllabus before the start of school, weekly lesson plans by eight on Monday mornings, patrol schedules for the first term, detention protocol, on and on it went. Hermione diligently took notes; unlike many meetings that became mundane and monotonous the longer it wore on, this one almost had too much information. Everything the headmaster and deputies said seemed important. Hermione thought she would have so many notes she would be sorting through them for days. But, finally, the meeting ended with enough time for her to find her office before lunch.

After navigating the moving staircases and long hallways, she located it at the end of the second floor corridor. On the outside of the thick wooden door, a gleaming engraved name plate bearing the words _Professor Hermione Granger - Charms Master_ greeted her. She skimmed her fingers along the grooves of her name, tracing the letters almost reverently as she read them again. Slowly turning the knob, she welcomed the slightly musty smell of the books that lined the shelves in what was now her office. The small window on the east wall allowed light to stream into the room, illuminating the tiny dust particles that clung to the air. An ornate, mahogany desk and matching chair looked like lonely islands in the middle of the office, but she could fix that with a few personal touches. So, she set about her task of tidying and settling her remaining things into their new homes.

She lost track of time while working and probably would have missed lunch if it weren't for the knock on the open door. Turning toward the sound, she saw the tall, black-robed figure of none other than Professor Snape and invited him in. His ghost of a smile returned as he stepped fully into the office and approached her.

"It's shaping up quite nicely," he remarked as he scanned the partially furnished and decorated room.

Hermione hastily replied that, "It's not finished yet, but . . ." Her pause made him wonder if he had said something wrong, until she continued in a lighter tone, "If I can take the closet I was offered during my internship and make it presentable, just wait and see what I can do with this place." Her impish smile had him nodding as his face softened. That hard look slipped into the one she remembered from the _Leaky Cauldron_.

"Consider it break time, then. Lunch will be served in the Great Hall in a few minutes so we should probably start that way." He let her pass as he followed her and then waited for to happily lock the door to her new office.

Severus enjoyed talking with her so much he almost rounded the corner into the Great Hall with a smile. Keeping himself closed off from the rest of the professors usually helped him avoid useless conversations about idle nonsense. The last thing he wanted was to be pestered through the teachers' equivalent of the opening feast. He let his hair fall forward to cover his face as he held her chair at the head table.

Hermione missed the change in his outward emotions as she wondered where she was supposed to sit. Probably at the end of the table since she was the newest edition to the Hogwarts' staff. She hesitated to follow him until she saw the empty chair he slid back for her. As she walked forward, she noticed that there were engravings on the backs of the seats; apparently, the professors sat according to their teaching disciplines instead of seniority, as she had previously assumed. She barely caught a glimpse of the 'Charms' seat that had a wand with sparks shooting out of it on the back before she relieved him of his self-imposed duty. She was even more surprised to find that Severus's seat was directly to the right of hers. This was something she could definitely get used to.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, and hopefully reviewing! ~Clover_


	5. Chapter 5

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Beyond meals in the Great Hall, Hermione found herself more often than not to be working alone in her office and classroom. There was just so much to do and she knew from experience that procrastinating made her nervous and on edge; if she could just get everything settled then she wouldn't have to worry so much about being prepared.

And worry was probably a mild term for it - paranoid, now that was the perfect word to describe it. After deciding to finish up a little early and search for the teachers' lounge one evening, which she never found among the corridors that all looked exactly alike, she woke up in the middle of the night dreaming that she had somehow forgotten to copy the third years' syllabus which lead them to think the class was a free for all and soon they were bouncing off the walls with all semblance of her authority gone.

Since waking up in a cold sweat from that 'dream', she hadn't wasted another evening traipsing the halls looking for the elusive lounge until she had finished her preparations (with duplicate copies of each years' syllabi tucked safely away in the bottom drawer of her desk).

Unfortunately, she had spent so much time away from the others that, once she had things under control, she felt a little timid and didn't want to intrude on them. She remembered the lukewarm greeting she received that first day from some of the staff, so she ventured toward the lounge (which Pomona had so graciously given directions for) very quietly. As she approached the door, boisterous laughter could be heard. Rather than interrupt, Hermione continued on by and found yet another route back to her office.

A few days later Hermione was tired of sitting alone in her quarters, so she finally ventured out to see who was in the teacher's lounge that evening. As it was still early, there were only a few people in the room: the deputy headmistress, Professor McGonagall, and her friend Professor Sprout sat at the table while Professor Snape looked very comfortable in a chair, reading with a relaxed expression on his face. Both women smiled kindly at her and motioned for her to join them. Behind them, and visible only to Hermione who stood facing the spacious yet cozy room, the Professor stood in a gentlemanly fashion, nodding to her as she offered a smile of her own before sitting with the women.

Severus wondered why she never joined them in the evenings; although he usually kept to himself while there, the lounge was a place he felt a sense of comradery. Despite age differences, house preferences, and varying fields of study, during the school year it provided a respite from the students and classes. But, in the summer, it was a place to enjoy, even for someone as reserved as himself.

He'd been surprised to see her tentatively stepping into the room tonight, so much so that he was slightly delayed in standing. But he didn't miss the flash of happiness that passed across her face as she looked over the ladies' heads and met his gaze. As she sat down, he saw her pull her hair back, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. He noticed, not for the first time, that her petite ears were unadorned and very lovely.

The longer Hermione sat with her colleagues, the more relaxed she became. At some point, she casually mentioned that she liked playing card games, especially Spades, which caused both women to perk up and summon a deck faster than the Professor could produce his trademark smirk.

"We love playing Spades, don't we Minerva." The Cheshire grin Pomona sent to her partner made Hermione slightly nervous; undoubtedly, she had just agreed to play with two card sharks.

"Oh, that we do, that we do," Minerva replied before realizing that Hermione couldn't very well play against them by herself. "Severus, come and join us. Hermione needs a partner."

Keeping his face hidden behind the potions journal, the Professor merely turned another page as if he hadn't heard anyone speaking to him.

"You're no more hard of hearing than I am Severus Snape," she continued as she attempted to bully him into playing. "We need one more person so get your moody self over here."

He lowered the magazine a fraction to glare at her, although he knew it wouldn't faze her in the slightest. Severus wanted to decline, as he always did, because the game would most certainly be secondary to the gossip session which would ensue. There wasn't anything he could do to spare Hermione, but he certainly wasn't going to be the second victim of the evening. Just as he opened his mouth to say as much, Professor Trelawny wandered aimlessly into the room humming a strange tune that was hardly recognizable as music.

Severus saw a pleading expression on her face as her eyes darted quickly toward Trelawny and back to him. When Pomona opened her mouth to extend an invitation for their newcomer to join the game, Severus noticed her eyes widen even more at the prospect of being paired up with the Divination teacher.

Hermione silently hoped the Professor would understand and save her from spending the evening with the eccentric woman as her partner. While none of the teachers had spoken unkindly about one another, Hermione had yet to find anyone who had thought highly of Trelawny. The more she was around her in the castle and at meals, the more certain Hermione was that the woman's oddities ran deep. She had yet to have a logical conversation with her.

Before anything else could be said, though, Severus lowered his lanky frame into the seat opposite Hermione and began shuffling the deck of cards. He chanced a look up as he dealt and was graced once again with her pleasant smile that he couldn't help but return.

As the game progressed, Minerva gently chided Hermione about continuing to call them 'professor' when there weren't any students around. The tentative expression on her face led Severus to say, "Yes, you may call me Severus." Only Hermione heard him as the other two were deeply engrossed in the unbelievable story one of them learned in Hogsmeade yesterday.

"Please call me Hermione . . . Severus." His nod at her request was all there was time for as the new pair soundly beat Minerva and Pomona.

Hermione could feel her face flush at the look in the Professor's eyes as she asked him to call her by her first name. It was as if she had given him something greater . . he seemed genuinely pleased by her simple request.

An hour and a half later the crowd in the lounge made the place feel a little suffocating. The ladies' prowess at cards was well known, so the newly formed pair's success attracted more than its fair share of attention. Despite enjoying talking and playing with Professor Grang - _Hermione_ - he corrected himself, he hoped to retreat to his potions journal at the end of this game. The clucking of the two hens and their friends who had come to gossip with them was becoming unbearable.

"And with our _fourth_ straight victory," Severus stressed while looking at McGonagall, "you'll have to excuse me."

Before either of them could find Hermione another partner, she quickly excused herself as well. "Sorry, but you can't change partners until you lose a game . . a Granger family tradition I'm afraid."

Severus could have sworn he saw her smirk as she, too moved away from the table.

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_Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Don't forget to review :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**More Than Enough - by Clover Bay**

_Outside of London . . ._

In a large study on the second floor of a home so expensive and ornate most can only dream of owning, several men, including the wealthy lord of the house, sat puffing on their cigars. Each had been a guest in his home on numerous occasions, some invited to formal dinners while others only on common business in their black robes and masks. The room took on a hazy fog as their cigars burned down and the smoke began to cloud their vision, but they knew better than to rush the man; he called them for a reason, and it wouldn't be wise to seem impatient.

The noise of the clanking of an empty tumbler touching down on a marble table shushed the group, bringing their attention back to their leader. With a clearing of his throat, he began. "Over the years, we have all shared in the _prosperity _of our choices . . ." he smirked at the thought of just how decadent the 'prosperity' had been, " . . . as well as _suffered_ at the hands of the Ministry and the Order." His snarl as the ugly word fell from his lips brought murmurs and nods of agreement.

"As the _elite_ among the wizarding world, we have not only survived the attempted purge of our ideals, but thrive once more."

"Hear, hear!" echoed around the room as nearly empty glasses of brandy were raised in his direction.

"There have been some," his quiet silky voice had them listening raptly to his every word, "among the old ranks who managed to _slither_ out of harms way. A notable method if it weren't coupled with traitorous actions!" His words had gotten more forceful, losing some of the aristocratic fluidity he was known for.

A hiss that could rival a den of snakes filled the air at his words.

As the room quieted, the lord's smirk became contagious. Leaning forward in their seats, the men eagerly anticipated the retribution he had planned. "On Saturday night, our slippery friend will be attending the Gala at the Ministry . . . ."

* * *

_Hogwarts . . ._

One evening as they all gathered in the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione noticed that the mood was, for the most part, considerably lighter than normal. The exception being Professor McGonagall who had her customary no nonsense expression.

She couldn't see Severus anywhere, but she imagined that he had his 'game' face on as she called it. They had gloated about their _trouncing_ (Severus's words, not hers) of Minerva and Pomona as they passed each other in the halls since that night and she had teased him about his 'game' face that made it impossible for anyone to figure out how good of a hand he really had.

He had replied with a smirk that her own 'game' face was almost as unreadable. "Did you know," he asked conspiratorially, "that your only tell is when you raise your left eyebrow after you've been dealt the Ace of Spades?"

Little did she know, but she was probably the only person, inside or outside of Hogwarts, to tease with him like that, as well as be teased in return. Most were too intimidated to even think of doing such a thing. Others simply couldn't be bothered to get close enough to him to notice any change in his expressions. Severus was also to blame for his coarse attitudes and his exceptional ability to turn himself off to others. But aside from his position as Deputy Headmaster, he had never given Hermione reason to be intimidated, let alone weary of him. In fact, he had been the first member of the Hogwarts staff to spend time with her, and she still cherished the memories of their days in Diagon Alley.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, effectively quieting the group and bringing Hermione out of her musings, before reminding them of the forthcoming Ministry of Magic Fall Ball. Hermione remembered it being mentioned in a previous letter but hadn't really been bothered with it at the time since she was so caught up in preparing for her classes. She began to figit with her hands as she looked quickly from one staff member to another. None of them seemed particularly concerned with the announcement, though a few did start whispering and making gestures as they described their new dress robes.

Fall Ball. New dress robes. A date. What had she gotten herself into?! Her mood was quickly changing as she started to feel overwhelmed with this. Hermione didn't have a clue who to ask to accompany her; she was sure she would be the only single person there, the only one unable to find a date.

Panic started to set in as she thought of excuses that might get her out of attending the gala. 'She needed to finish her lessons' - no, everyone would know that was a lie; 'her parents wanted her to visit them once more before the term started' - no, there were still two weeks left for that; 'Crookshanks was sick' - she scoffed at how lame that sounded, even to her own ears.

A second clearing of a throat brought Hermione's attention back to the Deputy Headmistress. "As I was saying, the Hogwarts contingency will be arriving at eight o'clock sharp and will stay until at least midnight. Albus has hinted that at least one of the minister's announcements will pertain to Hogwarts, therefore, it would be prudent for us to be present."

There were a few poorly concealed masculine groans but the majority of the other professors returned to their planning for the evening. Clearly there was no way to get out of this. But, hadn't Professor McGonagall said the _contingency_? So maybe it wasn't so much a 'date' event as it was a work function. A small sigh of relief passed through her lips at this realization.

Before she could fully relax, though, a million thoughts ran through her mind as she began to mentally list all of the things she would need: dress robes, of course, shoes, and . . . here she was stumped; was there a traditional color to be worn signifying the staff? was the Fall Ball elaborate enough to have her hair and make-up done or would her own efforts be sufficient? Ugh! This is precisely why she cringed at the thought of formal events; she felt herself becoming indecisive and unsure. Looking around the room, there was hardly anyone to ask; either the witches were much older than her and therefore what was appropriate for them would be considered matronly and old fashioned for her or they were wizards, again, hardly the best source of advice in this area.

Glancing to her right, Hermione saw Severus pulling out his own chair at the Head Table. "Apparently, I made it just in time to miss the staff announcements?"

She nodded absently as she continued to think about the gala.

"Hermione," hearing him address her so informally brought her attention to him and she couldn't help but notice the deep brown color of his eyes. "Hermione, this is just one of the obligations we have to the Ministry. They basically leave us alone, in return we attend a few functions and things proceed normally."

Sensing that he hadn't convinced her, he added with a lighter tone, "While I can't promise the evening will be all that memorable, rest assured that the food will be passable and the dancing enjoyable." Hearing his own words, he quickly added, "Should you choose to participate, that is."

His casual description of the gala relieved her and she finally started to relax a little. But, before she could ask him anything else, Professor Dumbledore joined the table. Oddly enough, there were small boxes floating along behind him like little ducks following their mum. With a wave of his wand, each one floated gracefully toward a member of the staff, landing neatly in front of their plates.

"As you all know, we will be leaving Saturday night; we will meet in the Entrance Hall and, nestled in your boxes, is the port key you will use to make travel easier."

From the far end of the table Hermione heard someone mutter, "Remember that year we took the thestrals and carriages? Never could get those wrinkles out of my dress."

With a slight chuckle, Dumbledore continued, "However, there is a surprise that will not be revealed until we are ready to leave. So, don't forget your boxes Saturday evening." And, with that, the table filled with another fabulous meal.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror in her rooms as she double checked that her dress was situated perfectly. She was by no means a voluptuous woman, but she had a pretty figure with soft curves that helped to highlight her slim waist. She had chosen a dress that would be flattering without drawing unwanted attention to any one area. The last thing she wanted was to be on parade with men staring at her like a human buffet. Of course there would be women who felt flattered to be ogled, but not her; for tonight's gala, she hoped to find a dress that would be appropriate for whom she would be representing and flattering at the same time.

When Hermione asked around, some of her colleagues suggested a shop in Hogsmeade that specialized in formal wear. While she was there, she overheard several other younger women talking about the gala so she paid special attention to the types of dresses they chose. Not wanting to show up in an identical dress as someone else was only one of the reasons for her observations, though; she also needed to gauge what would be most appropriate for the event. The sales witch eased her concerns by explaining that the shop's owner designed all of their dresses and refused to ever make two of the same kind unless it was for bridesmaids in a wedding. She also reassured Hermione that the store had many loyal customers for the annual gala.

Turning once more to look at herself from every angle, Hermione was pleased by her appearance and happy that she had followed the sales witch's advice in picking this dress. Grabbing her clutch and the mysterious box, she closed the door and made her way downstairs.

She barely missed walking into the Grey Lady as she rounded the corner to the final staircase. Of all the Hogwarts' ghosts she'd met so far, the Grey Lady had made her feel the most comfortable. Though she had yet to have a question that they couldn't help her with, the one that presided over Ravenclaw Tower made routine stops to visit with her. She was a pleasant surprise, especially when Hermione was still trying to work up the courage to join the others in the lounge.

"Hello ma'am."

"Professor, you look beautiful tonight. Where is your escort?"

"Thank you, that's very kind of you to say," Hermione replied. "We are all going together, so I don't have a proper escort."

"Hmmm . . from what I gathered listening to the Bloody Baron, you do, indeed, have a gentleman for the evening." After a thoughtful pause, the Grey Lady started to drift away. "Have a good time, dear."

"Bye," Hermione said, considering what the ghost's words as she continued on her way.

As they gathered in the Entrance Hall, Hermione noticed how different all the professors looked. Each appeared more polished and, dare she say it, a little less 'teacher-y'. The drab monotone robes had been abandoned in favor of more stylish eveningwear; the vivid colors of the ladies' dresses caught her eye as well as the tailored suits the men were wearing. As had been happening quite often since she moved into the castle, Hermione sought out the Professor while waiting for her port key.

Severus emerged from the depths of the dungeons with an air of aloof confidence that he outwardly maintained in public. Before him stood the most beautiful woman in the room; with her long, wavy brown hair and fair skin, Severus immediately recognized her. As she turned to scan the room, her dress seemed to shimmer as it transitioned from dark green to an almost black color.

Moving the port key box into one hand, Severus approached Hermione, lightly touching her shoulder to get her attention. If he read her face correctly, and after devoting more time than he would willingly admit to the endeavor he was sure he could, he watched as the surprised expression turned into one of excitement. It made his heart beat quicken to imagine that this smile was for him.

Mustering up his courage, and more grace than he had used in years, he swept her hand into his before brushing the top of it with the briefest of kisses. The blush that rose onto her cheeks made her look even more breathtaking.

The noise level around them seemed to increase, making him conscious of his surroundings again. Not once in the last seventeen years had he allowed himself to be this vulnerable, to drop his guard so willingly. Yet, it didn't bother him nearly as much as it normally would have to be in the midst of so many nosy people.

Releasing her hand, he quietly said, "You look lovely tonight." His voice was laced with sincerity as he paid her the highest compliment her could find. Beautiful - yes she most certainly was in his eyes - but the grace she carried transformed her from that to so much more.

Hermione stood amazed at his boldness. On more than one occasion she had experienced his old-world charm; tonight, though, his words and actions quelled any lingering doubts she had about her appearance and the gala.

"You look very handsome, Severus," she returned, though she scarcely took her eyes away from his.

"Please gather around with your boxes as we prepare to depart." Professor Dumbledore commanded everyone's attention without raising his voice. The twinkle in his eyes shone to the back of the crowd where Hermione and Severus stood, causing the potions professor void all emotion from his expression as he turned toward the old man.

"I've arranged a little game of sorts; if my watch is correct, then in precisely one minute your boxes will unseal themselves. Inside you'll find one half of a port key. Locate its other half and you'll be ready to go."

Just as he finished talking, Hermione felt the little box shiver as the spell and lid were released. Lifting the top off, she saw a brightly colored jade snake that fit into the palm of her hand. "Ooh's" and "Aah's" bounced off the walls as the others opened their boxes to reveal a variety of animals.

"I've got a badger," Pomona Sprout said loudly as she swiveled her head around to find her counterpart. Badgers, eagles, gryffins (which Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall coincidentally _found_), koalas, llamas, on and on the pairs went until the final pair - snakes - remained.

Severus let his trademark smirk shift into a small smile as he asked Hermione, "May I have the pleasure of escorting you this evening?"

"I would be honored."

* * *

_Thank you for reading and following the story! I'd love to hear from you, so review, review, review :)_

_~Clover_


	7. Chapter 7

**More Than Enough - by Clover Bay**

Severus and Hermione arrived in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic seconds after their port key pieces made contact. With his arm draped lightly around her waist, Severus gently helped Hermione regain her balance after teetering slightly as her high heels touched the floor.

Remembering the Professor's earlier words about the gala, Hermione decided to enjoy the evening with Severus and try to forget that their attendance had been compulsory. She was ready to leave behind the textbooks and lesson plans that had consumed her time over the last few weeks. Severus had mentioned that the food would be 'passable', which translated as not meeting the quality of the Hogwarts' house elves; but, there wasn't a group who could surpass them anyway, so she was still hoping to have a nice meal nonetheless. His reference to them dancing hadn't strayed far from her mind. She was very much looking forward to that.

Her brief concerns about the upcoming announcement pertaining to Hogwarts had been appeased when Severus said that Dumbledore hadn't been given any specific information so it must be a trivial idea at best.

Arm in arm, they walked down to the ball room where Severus gave their names to one of the hosts at the door. The timbre of his voice sent a jolt down her spine, making her shiver ever so slightly and goose bumps appear on her arms. The smooth, deep quality of his words were so alluring. Hermione tried to quell the reaction but the teasing smirk that found its way onto Severus's face told her he had already noticed. So, with a light heart and a faint blush dusting her cheeks, she and Severus stepped into the ball room.

The large meeting room in one of the underground chambers of the Ministry was transformed into an elegant ball room with an illuminated dance floor. The soft glow of the floor made its occupants appear as if they were gliding with their partners. Each couple moved effortlessly as they twirled, dipped, and moved in perfect synchronization. The inherent magic of the room added to the illusion of the dancers whose skill always looked better on this dance floor than any other.

Round tables with white linens surrounded the dance floor on three sides. Flower centerpieces and tea light candles filled the room with a sweet aroma and soft lighting. At the head of the room was a raised platform that housed the musicians for the evening. A podium was also located on the stage with a worn-looking red carpet providing a path to it.

They joined some of the other professors as the emcee interrupted the music to make one of the many announcements of the evening. Everyone cheered when the Auror department's success rate was announced before returning to their own activities as the music began again.

Across the room, two men conversed quietly behind their drinks. The plan to intercept Severus Snape changed the moment he arrived with the pretty witch on his arm. Suddenly it had become apparent that a better way to punish him would be to take the things that were important to him, even if that meant luring away his date just to discard her because they could. And this witch would be the beginning of the demise of the Death Eater turned traitor.

These men weren't delusional enough to think that they had ever really been friends with Snape, merely men seeking a common goal. The actions that condemned them exonerated the slippery spy. Snape was as guilty as the rest of them, even more so for being a traitor, but he had escaped unscathed. And that was enough to make him their target.

Enamored with the handsome man beside her, Hermione was oblivious to the group of plotting men. It wasn't until someone approached requesting a dance with her that she turned away from her colleagues and toward the dance floor.

The man was handsome enough and had been perfectly polite, but Hermione wanted to spend the first dance of the night with Severus. Aside from his casual comment at Hogwarts, he hadn't mentioned dancing again. She secretly wanted him to ask her, though. So, rather than answering their guest, her eyes darted toward the Professor who offered her regrets instead while leading the way to the cloud-like dance floor.

Once the music commenced, Severus held her a respectable distance from himself as he showcased his dancing abilities. It felt like he had to win her through this one dance, as if it was his only chance to keep her attention. He led her with sure, firm hands all the while watching her responses.

With a thoughtful expression, he finally spoke, "You'll have to excuse me if I put a damper on your evening just then. I suppose I spoke out of turn when his offer was directed at you . . ."

"Thank you," she said with a reassuring smile. "You read my mind back there."

A few more minutes into their first dance she continued, "I'm glad that you asked me to dance . . not because it chased away that other guy, which I truly appreciate by the way, but because the person I really wanted to dance with was you." She looked him boldly in the eyes as she spoke.

His expression would have been unreadable to her a month ago, but after spending nearly every evening playing cards or just talking about their latest journal submissions, she could tell that her words had hit their mark. After twirling her around, Severus pulled her closer as the song played around them.

They watched as Severus led her back to their seats and went to collect drinks for them. "Dance with the one who brought you. Surely you haven't forgotten that Braxton," a blonde haired man said to his newly rejected friend. "Antonio, see if you can succeed. She should be more receptive now that her obligations are fulfilled."

Polite applause covered the room when the Ministry's plans to provide additional funding for the extended care ward at St. Mungos were unveiled. Hermione thought the improvements to the hospital were an excellent idea and she clapped heartily with the others.

With her attention diverted, Antonio materialized at her side. Like his friend earlier, he was suave and eloquent. And, like his friend, he was politely rejected - this time by the witch herself.

Several more dances with the Professor and an equal number of interruptions by the emcee and distinguished ministry officials later, Hermione and Severus stood perusing the finger foods along one of the banquet tables when yet another voice spoke over the ending notes of the band's latest number.

"As the Minister of Magic, it is my great pleasure to welcome you once again. We have a rather special announcement to make tonight. After all, it isn't every year that one of our own comes out of retirement to rejoin us. Come on Dolores, don't be shy, stand beside me."

A heavily made-up squatty woman dressed in a frilly pink dress ascended the few steps of the raised platform. As the minister continued his long-winded speech, Hermione observed the short, plump witch. The way she batted her eyelashes and seemed to hang on to the minister's every word made her look like a simpering puppy to Hermione; when the minister praised the witch for some past accomplishment, she was dripping with false modesty as she unsuccessfully tried to downplay the attention. Hermione's first impression was that this woman was what her dad would call a 'yes man.' Well, 'yes woman' in this case.

Hermione felt Severus tense beside her. From the corner of her eye, she saw that his face was void of all emotion, more so than any other time she had been with him. His posture was rigid and his attention never wavered from the platform. She was intrigued by his rapt attention and desperately wanted to ask about this woman and why her presence clearly affected him. But, she sensed this wasn't the time for such questions and that she might be disturbing him should she try.

The other Hogwarts' teachers had frozen, also. Some with less poise than the Professor, having unflattering looks of disbelief on their faces. Professor McGonagall, one of the more restrained of the group, pursed her lips tightly, breathing heavily through her now flaring nostrils.

As the minister and Umbridge descended from the podium, a mixture of polite applause and static whispering broke out across the room. Even without knowing this Umbridge woman, Hermione realized this announcement was truly noteworthy.

"Would you like to dance?" Severus's offer seemed to contrast with all she had just witnessed.

"Will you . . ."

"Yes, but not here," Severus said as he offered her his arm. He understood her half-asked question but didn't think this conversation was best suited for their current location. To avoid any undue attention, he planned to dance again before going somewhere more private to explain about Umbridge.

Before they could reach the dance floor, though, Severus and Hermione found their path blocked by an aristocratic, blonde man. Dressed in expensive black robes and wearing a haughty smirk, he gave Hermione an uncomfortable feeling. She subconsciously tightened her grip on Severus's arm as the man approached them.

"Well, well Severus, so nice bumping into you like this. I had begun to wonder if you would have barricaded yourself in the dungeons yet." His backhanded compliment did nothing to improve her opinion of the elegant looking man.

"Lucius," Severus said in a monotone voice.

Hermione didn't need to turn in his direction to understand that this man was someone the Professor definitely did not want to be around. Mirroring her companion, Hermione tried to appear disinterested and unbothered by this intrusion.

After an awkward moment of silence, Lucius continued, "Aren't you going to introduce us?" He turned to address Hermione more directly to say, "You'll have to excuse his manners; he's not very sociable at times." Reaching out for her free hand, he kissed her knuckles and kept contact longer than was really necessary.

She tightened her grip on the Professor's arm even more. It had been a long time since Hermione had met anyone so openly condescending and arrogant. This fool thought so highly of himself that he didn't seem to care that his words were offensive, not to mention unprovoked. Regardless of whatever past he and Severus shared, the Ministry of Magic's Fall Ball was no place to take cheap shots at the Professor.

Watching her eyes comb over him, Lucius arched his brow and said, "I'm Lucius Malfoy. And, you are?"

The lecherous smirk he gave Hermione made her want to step back; she was still firmly attached to Severus's arm, though, or she might have just left him standing waiting for her reply. As it was, she would be forced to continue this conversation. Clearing her throat, she introduced herself in the same, flat tone Severus had used.

Just as she silently wished for the dancing to resume, the blonde aristocrat reached a second time for her hand. "Miss Granger, allow me to lead you in this next dance." She noticed the command in his voice and words rather than the request it should have been.

This time, Hermione felt Severus's arm tighten around her hand. She glanced at him quickly before declining as politely as she could. "You'll have to excuse us. I've already promised this next dance to Severus." When Lucius attempted to persuade her to postpone, she added, "and I believe that my card is full for the remainder of the night."

Abandoning his earlier plan, Severus took Hermione to a magical balcony that was charmed to overlook a meadow below with a clear, starry night blanketing them. Casting a scrutinizing look at their surroundings, he began to explain the Dolores Umbridge that the Hogwarts staff and castle knew. Sparing no detail, he detailed the many infractions that caused them to not only hate the witch but be concerned about her re-emergence in the Ministry.

"I am interested more in her new role with the Ministry than I am her past, though." With a pensive look, he continued speaking in a lowered voice that sounded almost like he was talking to himself, "This must be the reason that Dumbledore was unable to learn of the specific announcement dealing with Hogwarts. Surely she isn't coming back . . . ."

They spent so much time discussing the squatty witch that they were unable to talk about Lucius Malfoy before they heard the music fade away. The simpering voice of the announcer had them rushing back into the ball room to hear the latest development.


	8. Chapter 8

**More Than Enough - by Clover Bay**

Severus and Hermione reentered the ball room as Dolores Umbridge was finding her stride, having abandoned the shy facade she posed less than an hour ago to command everyone's attention at the podium. After missing the first few lines of her announcement, they listened raptly with the others and gave the witch far more attention than she normally deserved.

"Our children and the future of our magical world are entwined in a delicate balance. This balance is nurtured as they become fully qualified witches and wizards." She paused theatrically to scan the room and look at as many individuals as she could before clearing her throat and continuing.

"In an effort to help our charges realize their full potential and to further strengthen magical Britain, the Professional Standards Edict will now be in place."

When the second dramatic pause in as many minutes lapsed, Hermione's patience began to wear thin. Her hands were entwined together in front of her, slowly clasping and releasing in agitation. Hermione wondered when this woman would just explain the new decree. The witch clearly basked in the attention she received from her elevated position on stage.

In a smooth, fluid motion Severus captured one of Hermione's hands in his. The calming affect of his warm hand encasing hers made Hermione take a step closer to the Professor. Severus's hand tightened slightly at her movement; he felt a wave of protectiveness for his newest colleague, his date. No - Hermione. Just Hermione, he mentally corrected himself; he had no claim to her. His efforts were purely those of a gentleman. He had to refocus quickly -in any other setting they might have found themselves sharing a discrete smile or stepping back onto the magical dance floor but the echo of the renewed speech kept them facing forward as they listened intently.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the finest institution to train our future leaders. However, measures must be taken to ensure that those responsible for training the next generation are adequately supplying them with that knowledge. To evaluate the goals of the Professional Standards Edict, teachers with fewer than five years' experience at Hogwarts must achieve a ninety-percent pass rate on all OWL and NEWT examinations. Failure to do so will result in the dismissal of professors who are not fulfilling their duties."

Hermione stood in stunned silence as a conservative smattering of applause swept over the room. She felt Severus gently squeeze her hand in another nonverbal show of support as she schooled her face as much as possible. Her grip tightened when he transferred her hand into the crook of his arm.

It was evident that Hermione was the newest member of the Hogwarts' staff, not only by her physical appearance, but also due to the fact that she had never taught any of the adults in the room nor their children. It was common knowledge, too, that the Charms position had become a revolving door for unsuccessful professors. This provided fodder for gossip mongers in many social gatherings like the Fall Gala in recent years.

Many eyes darted in Hermione and Severus's direction only to look away if actual eye contact was made. From the scowl on Severus' face it was clear that he would not suffer the stares in his and Hermione's direction.

One group seemed unaffected by the trademark scowl proffered by Professor Snape. Rather, the men huddled on the far side of the room thought they had just been handed a gift - the small display of solidarity would provide them with assurance that the best way to attack Severus would be through the witch on his arm. With the Professional Standards Edict now in effect, pushing the new teacher toward failure would be easily accomplished with a few well-placed contacts to other Slytherin alumni.

The discretion of the scheming wizards amidst the dancing and chatter of the Fall Gala made them virtually unnoticed. Soon, they separated, having arranged to meet at Malfoy Manner the next day.

Hermione was uncharacteristically quiet as they gathered to go back to Hogwarts. Since the initial announcement of the new performance guidelines for professors, she distanced herself from the party-like atmosphere that continued to get more lively as the evening wore on. The escalation of the noise level coupled with the frantic thoughts of how to make the year successful made her head start to throb. Every beat of the music seemed to pulsate behind her eyes and across her forehead. To make matters worse, fleeting thoughts of failure made her stomach churn. The headache, nauseous feeling, and the smug look on Umbridge's face had pushed Hermione to her limit tonight. She welcomed the slight pressure of Severus's hand on the small of her back as it signaled the end to this exhausting night. He guided her back to the apparition point, enveloped her in his arms, and swiftly returned them to Hogwarts.

Slipping away from the noisy group of professors, Hermione sought the quiet refuge of her newly decorated chambers. She was tempted to start revising her syllabus immediately but the night had left her too troubled to think clearly. It wouldn't be until after she lay down in bed that she would remember the wonderful beginning to the gala and the perfect gentleman that the Professor had been.

Severus watched her separate from the others in the entrance hall as if she was in a daze. Her retreating form could be seen ascending the stairs as she methodically climbed them, with her finger tips ghosting along the worn banister. He sighed as she disappeared when one of the moving staircases took her out of his line of sight. For the first time he could remember, he had actually enjoyed the Fall Gala.

It seemed like much more than a few hours had passed since they departed for the Ministry. He felt like a giant walking into the gala, as if he was on top of the world with the loveliest witch in the room allowing him to be her escort. He must have smirked a dozen times throughout the night as envious wizards watched them. He saw the enamored looks she garnered as they danced. Yet, she had been oblivious to it all and fallen back into his arms to dance time and time again. He felt silly for thinking so romantically about their evening. It reminded him so much of the ideal picture he had once painted for himself. Now, _that_ seemed like a lifetime ago. And, in many ways, it was. The man standing before Hermione tonight was not the same Severus Snape he had grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror.

The first obstacle of the night, however, reminded him all too much of that previous life. Lucius Malfoy's charm and popularity among witches was legendary. Severus was sure his old acquaintance had never been rejected in public, much less at one of the premier social gatherings of the year. The Fall Gala was second in magical Britain only to the Winter Ball held before Christmas. Hermione had done more than look past the aristocratically handsome elder Malfoy, she had chosen him - Severus Snape. But, far more important than stroking his ego, Hermione's acceptance of him allowed Severus to put some well-needed distance between himself and that old life. He wanted to see more of Hermione, more than a professor would see his colleague. When and _if_ the time came to reveal his former life, Severus wanted to have the option of telling her in his own way. A way in which, hopefully, wouldn't leave him alone.

Before his thoughts could travel down the depressing path of that conversation gone wrong, he saw Dumbledore and McGonagall approaching him. They hastily made their way to the headmaster's office where the two deputies sat in chairs across the desk from Dumbledore. It was clear that the Ministry of Magic was once again trying to garner control over the school. The night grew long as the three leaders of Hogwarts discussed the Professional Standards Edict and the implications for the students, Hermione, and the future of the school.


	9. Chapter 9

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Hermione became more of a hermit than before, even the first lonely week of August couldn't hold a candle to the time she now spent secluded in her office. The announcement from the fall gala had an ominous message: succeed or leave. And, she hadn't missed the simpering smile the Umbridge woman cast in her direction, as if she knew exactly how nervous she was making Hermione.

Severus had described the horrible 'reign of Umbridge' as he called it and her undignified exit near the end of the school year when they were talking on the balcony. Apparently she had yet to forget her humiliation. Hermione only hoped that she didn't get caught in the crossfire - which seemed unavoidable.

From what Hermione could gather, the new edict was not aimed at her personally, but at the position of Charms instructor. At the ball, she overheard several ministry wizards who had already made a few trips to refill their drinks. One of them told his friend a little too loudly that he had been expecting something like this to happen for a while and that in his office they compared it to the "cursed" position. The smell of firewhiskey wafting toward her prevented her from taking much credence in the cursed nonsense. She couldn't, however, stop from feeling a bit relieved that the decree was only indirectly referring to her.

Her hasty exit upon returning from the Fall Gala prevented her from discussing it more with Severus. Her mind was in overdrive as she contemplated the changes that the Professional Standards Edict would cause. Would he still be Severus and, in her mind, _the_ Professor? He might revert back to Professor Snape or Deputy Headmaster or simply sir. Surely he, Minerva, and Professor Dumbledore would be expected to answer to the Ministry and report on her progress throughout the year; after all, they were all in some capacity her bosses. She was conflicted as to whether or not their friendship would change. After dancing with him so closely and talking with him so personally, she had hoped to see what became of them. She had no grand plan of how to direct things with him or even a clear idea of what her own expectations were. Hermione knew, though, that she didn't want things to change because of the Ministry's interference. As childish as it may sound, Hermione had been avoiding him, dreading the inevitable discussion that would leave her feeling alone in a sea of people at Hogwarts. Being the only teacher yet to receive tenure, no one else could empathize with her plight. And, without the Professor as at least her friend, she would be left without a shoulder to lean on.

Since that night, she poured over her texts and teaching materials, determined to survive the ministry's attempted purge of new teachers such as herself. Some people faced adversity head-on; Hermione counted herself among that group. However, she wasn't so bold or brazen enough to openly scoff at the new decree. She was a very capable teacher, remarkably intelligent - if her own test scores and letters of recommendation were anything to go by - and committed to teaching each individual. Her doubts stemmed from the very idea that the Ministry was under the delusion that ninety percent of the students not only had the aptitude for Charms, but also the perseverance and diligence to study and learn all of the required material.

She remembered her own classes as a younger student. There were always Quidditch matches that took precedence over studying, crippling the entire school surrounding game days. It wasn't as though she hated sports, she just preferred to spend her time as a student focusing on other things. Now, as a new teacher, she had hoped to become involved in the entire Hogwarts life - Quidditch matches and all.

She remembered, too, the dramatic change in the fourth years who suddenly thought their lives were incomplete without someone hanging on their arms. The constant longing stares and notes being passed that had little to do with class work were to be expected. She had already conceded that fighting against the raging hormones of the upper classmen would be a losing battle; this reminded her that a seating chart wouldn't be remiss as she planned to keep their attention to achieve this ninety percent the ministry needed.

Her concerns weighed more heavily on her mind as she imagined that she would be the only professor with the strict schedule she intended to maintain. Surely no one else would drive their students as hard; after all, no one else was being watched by the ministry.

In the corridor leading to the teachers' lounge, Hermione came across the Grey Lady and offered a kind acknowledgment, "Hello ma'am."

"Professor," the gentile ghost replied. "I see that you are once again strolling without your escort."

Hermione blushed softly at the thought of whom she would like to have as an escort. "I'm on my way to the room just ahead. Besides, I don't ha . . . ."

"You are observant as always, ma'am," a smooth, velvety voice interrupted Hermione, directing his comments to the Hogwarts' ghost and offering a slight bow. "I'm here to accompany her to the destination of her choosing."

"Such a gentleman, Professor Snape," the Grey Lady said before lowering her floating form to curtsey. "Good evening to you both," she said, her words fading as she drifted down the hallway.

"Professor," Severus said while lifting his brow and proffering his arm to Hermione. He intended to remind her of their first outing in Diagon Alley when he accompanied her to make purchases for the new year. She seemed so flattered to hear her new title that he had called her that repeatedly, secretly happy that he was causing her to smile with only his words. The startled expression and doe eyes that he got in return had him turning more fully to her.

"Hermione," he said with a questioning tone.

She timidly laced her arm through his. Those two words confused her even more; she was unsure if he was talking to her as just another professor or as Severus, who danced with her all night, kept her company among strangers, and helped her defeat the dynamic duo in cards a few weeks ago.

Her smile was hesitant at best. The confusion she felt was written all over his face, the poor man deserved an explanation and she was tired of avoiding him. As they walked down the corridor, she kept her hand in the crook of his arm and quietly revealed her concerns about the new decree. She held nothing back as she confessed to the doubts that had crept in and, more importantly, the uncertainty of his new role in all of this.

Somewhere between her insecurities and criticizing the ministry, they passed the lounge. Severus steered them along another hallway that would eventually connect back to their original destination. He couldn't believe what he was hearing - he needed to stop her self-doubting, if he could get a word in; she had yet to take more than a breath in her very long and elaborate monologue.

He guided them into an empty classroom. Looking her squarely in the eyes, he said, "Hermione, when we returned from the gala, Minerva, Albus and I met until the early hours of the morning combing through the Professional Standards Edict. From our deductions, the Ministry seems determined to avoid another lengthy teaching position that lacks stability." Holding up his hand to postpone her interruption he continued, "I know - we know; threatening to remove a professor for failing to acquiesce to something outside of their control is the _last_ way to stabilize Charms instruction within Hogwarts."

"Before your time here, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors were considered to have lengthy careers if they remained for the duration of the school year. In the past five years, much the same had happened since Professor Flitwick retired from the Charms post."

"Let me assure you, we all have faith in you and believe that you were the best person for this job. _I _have faith in you. The decrees of the Ministry have not tarnished our perceptions of your abilities nor will they affect the working relationships that you will find at Hogwarts. Or any other relationships for that matter," he spoke the last part so quietly that, had Hermione not been listening so intently, she would have missed it.

"The new legislation also states that only the Ministry and the testing examiners will have any authority in determining the success of the students and the professors with fewer than five years experience."

Hoping he had understood her misgivings correctly and that she wanted to develop whatever was going on between them, he said, "The Hogwarts' staff will do all in their power to make this year as successful as possible. I . . I will do . . whatever _I_ can to help you, too . . . Hermione."


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and added this to your story alerts/favorites! You're awesome!_

_Some have wondered about Hermione's background; this will be explained in the near future._

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

The Hogwarts' professors gathered in a small antechamber behind the Great Hall. As a gesture of solidarity, they always met before the opening feast and entered together. They also chose to wear their own university graduating robes, complete with colorful sashes draped along their necks and trailing down their backs. Hermione proudly wore her robes for the first time since graduating with her Master's degree; the blue, green, and white colors of her sash designated her studies in the area of charms. All around her she could see the different color schemes: Transfiguration -gold, red and white, Astronomy -black, purple, and gold, Divination - black, grey, and white. Hermione had to turn away from the others to hide her laughter at seeing Trelawny and her noble art of divination being portrayed as grey and murky. On and on they went until she finally saw the Potions' sash -black, white, and ironically enough, green. It was almost surreal for her to see such a bold symbol of her acceptance and belonging to such a prestigious group of distinguished faculty. As the Professor gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, she sent a covert smile in his direction as they prepared for the feast.

Even though the students had yet to arrive, the staff took great care in entering the Great Hall and arranging themselves to meet the students approaching in the carriages. Power seemed to radiate from the head table once its occupants were seated. It looked like ripples of heat waving through the air on a hot summer day, barely visible yet clearly noticeable. The castle, too, had a certain charge about it, the inherent magic tingling in excitement.

Hermione had never felt anything like it. But, before she could consider it anymore, the doors were magically heaved open and students started spilling into the Great Hall. The noise level escalated until the door finally closed behind the last student. The pent up magic quickly silenced the crowd without so much as a word from the staff or the headmaster. The excitement never left their faces as the relative stillness overtook them, only to be broken by the arrival of the first years led by Professor McGonagall. Hogwarts' newest students missed the stern look she projected to the rest of the school. Many were concentrating on keeping up with her swift strides and trying not to fall on the hems of their new robes. One by one they were sorted into the various houses, each receiving great applause as they were welcomed officially. Even the most shy student exuded confidence at hearing the cheers.

Hermione watched it all with eager eyes and a rejuvenated sense of hope for the new school year. The Ministry's edict was beyond her control at this point and she refused to let it sully her first Hogwarts' feast - the first of many she thought optimistically.

To her right, Severus caught her attention with the slightest of gestures. "Remember your game face," he all but whispered in her direction without taking his eyes off of the sorting. "Didn't you say no smiling until Christmas?"

Of course she had. In a moment of idealistic teaching theory, she told the Professor that she wasn't going to 'smile until Christmas' in an effort to establish a no-nonsense reputation and head off potential problems from the students who might think she was soft. She smirked in his general direction at the thought of him using her own words against her. Touche'. Round one to Professor Snape.

Little did she know, but the students were covertly sizing up the new face at the head table. Just as some had begun to form an opinion of her, she pulled a Snape-like smirk that had them rethinking. Three of the house tables had members with blanched faces and others with looks of incredulity at the idea that there were two people capable of producing such an imposing expression.

With her game face firmly in place, Hermione enjoyed the feast while watching the interactions among the students. There was so much potential in each of them, simply waiting to be challenged. Her optimism, though, was tempered with practicality; the brunette haired boy sitting at the Gryffindor table carried a mischievous look on his face as he seemed to be plotting with the boy beside him. A pack of girls at the Hufflepuff table were giggling uncontrollably as the boy across from them was gesturing wildly with his hands, which were twice their normal size. Dotted along each of the tables she saw similar expressions. Each house was bound to have its own segment of _challenging_ students.

Severus turned to her near the end of the meal. "In a few moments, the headmaster will give a series of announcements, introduce you, and then dismiss the students to their houses. The heads of the four houses will meet in the common rooms to speak with them before curfew."

"Since I'm not a part of any of the houses, what should I be doing during this time?"

"It is always prudent to have professors patrol the hallways and guide any first-year stragglers in the direction of their dorms."

"Sure, I can do that." She paused to look over the tables again before voicing her next question. "Does anything else happen tonight? I didn't see a meeting listed but there may be something that's just expected." She focused on her dessert as she waited for his reply. She wanted to talk with him some more before retiring to her rooms but she didn't want to be an imposition.

Surely he read too much into her question. She couldn't possibly want to spend more time with him. Clearing his throat, he decided to pass that decision back to her. "Well, it's very informal, but sometimes we end up congregating in the lounge. Play a game of cards or two." He failed to mention that he rarely returned to the upper part of the castle after meeting with his house. Severus cast his glare toward a couple of Slytherin third-years who were shoving each other at the table to distract himself from overanalyzing her answer. Of course, this in itself was overanalyzing. He wondered how conversations with Hermione could affect him so much.

The confidence in her voice returned when she answered. "Well, then, I guess I'll meet you there and we can prove that our Spades' wins weren't a fluke."

He glanced in her direction and saw a smirk adorning her face. She truly was using her game face - smirk, never smile in front of the students. "I'll see you in the lounge at nine." He was prevented from saying more when Dumbledore approached the podium and began addressing the students.

* * *

_Okay, so that was a tiny cliff-hanger, but this will be another double-posting so there won't be much of a wait to continue our story. Hope to hear from you again - or for the first time from some of you! Clover_


	11. Chapter 11

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

At nine-thirty that night after the Opening Feast, Hermione was tossing darts at the lone dart board in the room while most of the other professors formed groups to talk and play cards. She joined them shortly before nine and even played a game of wizards' chess before moving to the far side of the room. A card game was underway, but Hermione had initially declined to join because she was waiting for Severus. After all, they were on a winning streak and she didn't want to change partners yet.

At first she thought that the house announcements the professors had to give were just lasting longer than expected. But, the other three heads of house had trickled into the room and were hardly noticed as late-comers. Hermione was confused and a little disheartened by Severus's absence. When she mentioned his absence to Pomona, her friend merely laughed and said that she couldn't remember the last time he returned to the main part of the castle after the opening feast.

Thunk. Hermione aimed another dart at the middle of the board. She may have been playing alone, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to score as many points as possible. She imagined that she was a pitiful sight - playing by herself, somewhat segregated from the others.

She began to throw the darts a little harder each time she drew her arm back. If the Professor didn't want to play cards then he shouldn't have mentioned it.

She huffed audibly as she twirled the next dart in her hand to get the perfect grip on it. Maybe she read too much into his answers from dinner. It had obviously been more important to her than to him.

Thunk. The last one was dead on. Hermione mused that she was a much better dart player when she was upset.

Ting. Well, then again, maybe not. The last one hit the metal wire on the board and fell noisily to the floor. She was frustrated and annoyed with herself.

Thunk. More than anything, she was upset that his absence was affecting her so much. Here she stood in a room full of her colleagues and she could only focus on the one missing. She wasn't so much mad at him as she was disappointed. She had been looking forward to spending a little more time with him before the school year began.

Thunk. She winced as the last one sunk into the board with enough force to completely embed the point of the dart. He hadn't really done anything so wrong as to warrant the mistreatment of that poor dart.

With a quiet sigh, she began to collect the darts, even the one laying on the floor. That last one, though, was stuck. As she tried to pry the dart from its deep position in the bulls-eye, a larger more masculine hand extended from a long black sleeve and enclosed hers. She started at his sudden appearance. With her back still to him, she heard him say, "Allow me to help." Her hand slid from beneath his as he easily wrenched the dart from the board.

When she turned around, she realized how close they were standing to one another - she was able to smell his cologne and see the five o'clock shadow adorning his face. That's one of the things she liked the most about dark-haired men - the distinctly visible shadow that had a certain ruggedness and manliness about it. 'Focus Hermione' she mentally chided herself.

"I didn't realize you were a darts queen as well as a Spades champion." A single brow rose acknowledging this new found information.

Hermione laughed gently at the image of a queen sitting on a throne, hurling darts indiscriminately at passers-by. "Actually, playing a game of darts gives me time to think without sitting idly by doing nothing even remotely productive." She wasn't about to confess that the object of her current 'thinking' time was him.

"I'll have to try that sometime," he said with a small smile.

"Yes. It's very therapeutic, too. I'll probably log quite a few hours here after particularly _challenging_ classes."

A smirk found its way back on to his face as he said, "That's a very diplomatic way of saying it. I prefer _dunderheads_, myself."

Hermione's gaze landed on his mouth and the way his smirk accentuated the dark stubble of his once clean-shaven face captured her attention. She was saved from embarrassment and the need to reply when noise erupted from the other side of the room.

Their attention was diverted from each other when Minerva and Pomona started loudly congratulating themselves. They had managed to defeat yet another pair of professors.

"I believe it's time to remind them who the true Spades champions are, don't you?" Severus asked while motioning over his shoulder at the half-empty table.

He hadn't explained his tardiness nor had he apologized for making her wait. And, Hermione found that she didn't really need either of those. She wasn't keeping tabs on him. Besides, he had a job to do and plans or no plans, he had to see to those obligations and constraints on him time first. A part of her was pleased to know that his late arrival hadn't been an attempt to avoid her.

With a gleam in her eyes, she nodded in confirmation. "I agree; let's demonstrate the _proper_ way to play - again."

He couldn't stop the laugh that burst forth, though he stifled it almost immediately. Her poise and spunk were so refreshing. Together they would make a good team.

The next morning, Hermione awoke, without an alarm, before sunrise. She lay in bed replaying the lesson plans she prepared for the first day of classes, too keyed up to go back to sleep and too early to do anything else.

After another half-hour she couldn't stand the tossing and turning so she finally got up and ready for the day. There was still too much time before breakfast to head to the Great Hall, so she chose to check for the umpteenth time that everything was in order for the day.

The quiet walk to her office was interrupted only by an unfamiliar ghost that appeared in front of her. Normally the Hogwarts' ghosts would acknowledge the professors - some more friendly, like the Grey Lady, than others, namely the Bloody Barron who scarcely talked to her but bowed nonetheless; but, this one seemed to elude her. When she sped up, it would move more quickly. When she slowed, it hovered until their pace was the same. She felt as though the ghost, for some reason, wanted her to follow it, but she turned into her office instead.

By this time, sunlight was streaming into her office from the stained glass window. A rainbow fell across the corner of her desk from the beautiful panes. As she approached the desk, she noticed something new sitting atop it. Aside from the quills, inks, and other necessary 'desk' items, she didn't have any personal things sitting out. So, this new addition easily caught her attention. A small, paper weight sized owl stood facing her while perched on top of a folded piece of parchment. She lifted the owl and opened the paper. Inside, she saw a short message penned in a spiky, slanted cursive writing:

_Good Luck, Professor_

_Remember Your Game Face_

There was no signature. It wasn't really necessary. It was from Severus. A sudden thought hit her, this is why he was late to the lounge last night; he made a detour to deposit this special delivery. She was happier than one can imagine at finding the ceramic owl. This thoughtful gift and the knowledge that she warranted another part of his busy evening made butterflies start fluttering inside and a smile come to her face.

This would be a good day.


	12. Chapter 12

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

On the first day of classes, Hermione projected a concise, no-nonsense approach to the students. She didn't smile, she didn't joke with them, nor did she ask if they enjoyed their summer breaks. The hourglass had been turned and it was now a race against time to have them fully prepared for their end-of-level exams.

After discussing the syllabus, she drew their attention back to the first week outlined and asked one of the students to read Friday's assignment: a comprehensive test over all of the material they should have learned up to their year level. The only exception being the first years whom Hermione would have direct control over their progress. The shocked faces and mutterings were silenced by her quick control of the room. For a petite witch, she certainly perfected the intimidating teacher persona - complete with 'the look' that could bore through a student and authoritative tone of voice. If she wanted a reputation as a hard-ass teacher, she earned it that day. Without deducting a single house-point or issuing a detention, she had gotten their attention. _Now_, she thought, _I can finally teach_.

From the other side of the teachers' desk, a distrustful bunch of seventh years sat before her skeptically appraising their seventh teacher in as many years. This was nothing new to them. The headmaster would find whomever he could and let them 'teach' until they finally gave up and ran the class much like a study hall. Unlike their previous years, they really needed this class; without it, doors would be closed to them and their job hunt would be severely limited. A few of their fathers had even looked into hiring private tutors for them during the winter break and into the spring term.

When Professor Granger commanded their attention and put them into an alphabetical seating arrangement, they still weren't the least bit phased. This, too, was familiar. What took them by surprise, though, was the appearance of a year-long syllabus that she wandlessly placed onto their desks in front of them with a wave of her hand. Impressive for this classroom, but something that should be commonplace in Charms. 'At least she is competent'_,_ they thought, though they were still sizing her up so they refrained from saying as much.

The seventh years, unlike many of their younger counterparts, sat a little straighter when she began to speak in earnest.

"I am Professor Granger, and from this moment forward, you will have to earn the right to continue with this class. Foolishness, half-hearted attempts, and laziness will not be tolerated. You are here," she waved her hand in a sweeping motion to gesture the classroom, "because you have a desire to achieve NEWT scores that will enable you to pursue the profession of your choosing."

"As of this moment, I have no faith in your abilities in the area of charms. Your only viable reason for your present location," again she referenced their desks in the room, "are your OWL scores. When you can prove to me that you truly belong in this class, I'll give you every tool available to help you ace your NEWTs."

She made a point of looking each of the fifteen students in the eyes before continuing. "I'll be the best letter of recommendation an employer could hope to receive. I'll be the professor you owl when you've published your latest article and have the Charms world clamoring at your feet." She paused to give them a moment to envision their future selves in those situations.

"You will have your first opportunity to demonstrate this on Friday. Now, please take your syllabi and follow along as I explain the assignments for the upcoming year . . . ."

Professor Granger had the attention of every face in the room. She'd called them out and challenged their abilities, promised them studies they had only seen in the likes of McGonagall's classroom and Snape's dungeons, and she had tempted them with greatness. Despite the initial bitchiness of her tone, she'd given them something they hadn't expected for this time slot in their schedules - hope of passing their NEWTs.

It was a similar speech that she gave to the sixth years later in the morning. But, the second year class that met directly before lunch heard no such promises. The written and practical lesson she thrust upon them left them too busy to grumble or complain about their newest professor. And, if she had her way, every lesson for fourth year and lower would proceed much the same way. Discipline, hard work, and no idle time would consume the classes, leaving them no choice but to be prepared for their own end-of-level exams.

By lunch time, Professor Granger had successfully made a name for herself as a demanding teacher. The news spread quickly among the students that not only were you supposed to show up with your book (something that became optional at the end of last year), but you should be ready to work - on the first day of classes! The most scandalous piece of gossip coursing through the student tables was that she planned to give a test at the end of the week.

As Hermione seated herself at the head table, she saw Severus scowl and overheard him grumbling about his morning. "Is it too much trouble to ask that students not blow up the potions' lab during the first lesson of the new year?!"

The rhetorical question went unanswered by most of the table, each one used to his snarkiness. Hermione, though, replied dryly, "it would seem so."

With a quirk of his eyebrow, he returned her smirk, "indeed."

The others at the table were a bit shocked at their conversation. Severus was notorious for his sour expressions and no one, not even the headmaster, bothered to answer when he started muttering about the dunderheads' latest attempts to knock out a few of the walls supporting the potions' classroom. Either Professor Granger didn't know any better, or she was unaffected by his attitude.

"Which one was it?" she asked referring to the student who tried to blow up the dungeon as she scanned the student tables.

"Three o'clock. Blonde-haired Hufflepuff wearing his robe inside out."

Hermione had to cough to disguise the unladylike snort that almost escaped her. This one _did_ look like he could would have trouble brewing potions - he couldn't even dress himself properly. "Thanks for the warning. I'll keep an eye out for him this afternoon."

She glanced at him before lowering her fork back to her plate. The morning had been long and she was starving but she refused to scarf down her food. She was ever mindful of the hundreds of students, dozens of whom at any time looked toward the head table. For this reason, she schooled her features offering a neutral expression.

At the Ravenclaw table, several of the upper years cast glances in the new professor's direction as they talked about their morning. Stephen, a seventh-year prefect held their attention, "She seems to be channeling Snape with the load she plans to give us."

There were murmurs of agreement as he continued. "Mark my words," he said while waving his spoon around for emphasis, "it'll get worse before it gets better."

"What do you know that we don't?" Benji asked.

"Nothing, but I've just got this feeling. Besides," he added with a superior look, "I'm a Ravenclaw."

They laughed with him as he said the last bit even though they silently agreed with his rationale.

And, so, the week continued with Professor Granger reviewing and teaching as if it were May instead of September. Stephen had guess correctly, it would become much more demanding in the next week - especially for those who did not perform well on Friday's tests.

For Hermione, she was buried by the mountain of tests she needed to grade over the weekend. With six of the seven years taking comprehensive exams, she ended up missing both breakfasts and lunches as she slaved away in her office. She'd not seen the inside of the teacher's lounge nor so much as a trace of laying cards in her 'off' time, but she finally emerged Sunday evening to patrol the halls. The papers had been marked, the study schedules created, and at long last the weekend was almost over.

She was pleasantly surprised to find Severus patrolling that evening as well. "I was wondering who my partner would be tonight," Hermione said with a tired smile.

With a slight nod, he said in a tone he reserved only for her, "I hope you're not disappointed."

"Of course not! Pleasantly surprised in fact." Shaking her head slightly, she realized she was staring at him so she turned and they began their rounds. His five-o'clock shadow was teasing her again. "I wanted to thank you for the lovely owl. I've kept him in a very prominent place on my desk."

Severus was a little uncomfortable at being thanked. He'd gotten the owl on a whim when he was in Diagon Alley after recalling a conversation they had where she told him how much she liked the friendly birds. After receiving her first letter by owl inviting her to the magical world, she became entranced with the beautiful creatures. He wanted to give her a token to welcome her further than his mere words.

At his lack of response, Hermione tried to fill the silence and said, "I wanted to tell you Monday morning at breakfast, but was afraid it would embarrass you and draw too much attention from the others."

"You're remarkably perceptive," he said in his smooth, baritone voice. "And, you're welcome." He wanted to say more, but he was a reserved man so they lapsed into a comfortable quietness as they moved toward the astronomy tower looking for errant students who were out after curfew.

After a while, he commented on her absence from the Great Hall over the weekend. As she explained her grading endeavors, she went on to discuss her plans for the upcoming week. "I know it will be added work on my part, but I refuse to let these students fall further behind. And, well, on a more personal level . . I will not let the Ministry or that Umbridge woman have the satisfaction of running me off. So far, I enjoy it here at Hogwarts and plan to stay for a while." Her scowl at the reference to the Professional Standards Edict was quickly replaced by a smile at the thought of Hogwarts.

"I knew you would be up to the challenge," he said as they approached her office once again. "I'll check the dungeons on my way down, so I'll leave you here."

"This was nice. I look forward to patrolling with you again."

"Until next time . . ." he trailed off before disappearing around the corner.


	13. Chapter 13

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

The early morning meeting in the headmaster's office with Albus, Minerva, and Severus provided Hermione with the support she hoped to find. Having decided to require each student who failed to score at their year-level on Friday's exam to attend afternoon review sessions, she felt empowered by their collective approval. They agreed that it wouldn't be wise to move ahead with the curriculum, particularly the charms that could be dangerous if performed incorrectly, until the students were academically ready. The headmaster and his two deputies gave her the green light to begin that afternoon.

_Charms Revision Schedule_

_All students required to attend must adhere to the schedule below:_

_Monday through Thursday 3:30-4:15 . . . . . . . Second and Third Years_

_*Fifth Years will tutor during this time on Tuesdays_

_*Sixth Years will tutor during this time on Wednesdays_

_Monday through Thursday 4:15-5:00 . . . . . . . Fourth and Fifth Years_

_*Seventh Years will tutor during this time on Thursdays_

_Monday through Thursday 5:00-6:00 . . . . . . . Sixth and Seventh Years_

_Monday through Thursday after dinner until 8:30 . . . . . . . . Office Hours_

_Professor Granger will be in the office for anyone needing additional help_

_Friday - Exams will be administered during the times listed above_

_Students not in attendance will lose House points and receive detention_.

_There will be no reprieve to accommodate Quidditch practices._

To say that her reputation was growing among the students would be an understatement; the revision schedules she posted made a clear statement that their Charms skills would be up to par or they would be severely limited in their free time. It had been Minerva who suggested that she remind the students that the houses would be holding Quidditch tryouts in just over two weeks' time and they might want to buckle down so they would still have time to practice.

Hermione had given the Professor a slightly puzzled look during the meeting as Minerva made this statement. Just the night before, Severus had explained the intense rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. He'd conspiratorially mentioned the annual wager between the two deputies regarding the Quidditch cup.

With a satisfied smirk he said, "In the years that my house wins, Minerva must spend the following year serving as the deputy in charge of ALL Hogsmeade visits. And, as the cup is currently residing above MY mantle, I have found myself with many free Saturdays that might otherwise prove to be very tedious."

"Impressive."

"Indeed."

"And what, may I ask, happens if neither of your houses were to win?"

"It has been fifteen years since Ravenclaw managed to trump us both. But, in the inevitable chance that we both were to lose," here he sniffed derisively at the memory of the loss for his house and the only one, in his opinion, worthy enough of an adversary as McGonagall's 'kittens', "then we simply alternate our supervision of the weekends."

Every house was represented in the study sessions. Ravenclaw had substantially fewer numbers than the others, but none were immune. Ironically, Stephen the prefect managed to avoid the extra classes; he'd taken Professor Granger's words to heart and, secretly, wanted to impress her so he spent the previous week preparing for the exam. Benji and most of their friends had caught up during that first week of extended sessions which only added to their feelings of academic superiority.

The Slytherins, however, were faring worse than the others. It wasn't that their intelligence was sub-par, they just refused to study or ask her for help. With each passing day, they looked at Professor Granger with more and more loathing and contempt.

The common sentiment among the house mates was that she surely must not know who their fathers were - if she did, this 'extra class' nonsense would stop. They were purebloods. Many of whom were the leaders of business, government, and finance in magical Britain.

The Slytherins had thrived well enough in the past without her so-called help sessions. This, more than anything else, was a blow to their dignity; a public sign to the academic struggles that normally went unvoiced. They might spend the entirety of their Christmas and Easter breaks working with tutors at home, but it would be in the privacy of their fathers' mansions not next to an overly friendly Hufflepuff or an idiot Gryffindor.

If Professor Granger had known them any better, she would have recognized the signs of plotting Slytherins. When their open contempt started to wane, she took believed they were starting to accept the work as inevitable and, hopefully, useful. Instead, they had begun to formulate ways to rebel against her.

Three weeks into the fall term, Hermione's routine of classes, review sessions, and long weekends was starting to take its toll not only on the students, but on her as well. She knew that all of this was necessary to help the students succeed. However, the extra tedious work made her re-evaluate her decision at an increasingly regular rate. It felt as though she were somehow being punished with the enormous load of extra work. The volume of the work was even more cumbersome for her than the students. Frankly, it was exhausting giving the very best of herself day in and day out for an increasingly uncooperative group of young witches and wizards.

She didn't feel that she could ask the headmaster or either deputy for advice since she had brought all of this on herself. She even refrained from discussing it with Severus as they made their rounds while patrolling on Sunday nights. The doubts that had disappeared with the late summer days reemerged in full force. The inner battle she waged with herself concerning the Professor as both her friend and her superior made her feel isolated and without anyone to commiserate with.

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the year came mid-way through their first month of school. Although their weekends had yet to be accosted with too much work, aside from Charms that is, the older students welcomed this break in their routine and studies. They could spend the entire day roaming around the little village with their friends, stocking up on sweets from Honeydukes and joke supplies from Wealseys' Wizard Weezes. Of course, no one ruled out the option of sneaking off with their boyfriends or girlfriends to snog the day away while carefully eluding the professors on duty. Ah, freedom. Freedom from the confines of the castle.

Hermione barely noted the activity on her desk calendar as the day would be spent in her normal Saturday fashion - grading exams. The swift knock on her partially open office door drew her attention away from the seventh years' parchments that lay unfurled before her. She expected to see the face of some student wondering wether or not they had passed yesterday's exam. Instead, she saw the Professor's dark eyes looking in her direction.

"Professor Granger," he drawled with a smirk.

Upon hearing his greeting and seeing his welcomed face, she visibly relaxed. Leaning back in her chair she replied in kind, "Professor Snape." Motioning with her ink-stained hand, she invited him into the office. "Come on in. I can use the break."

Her genuine smile made Severus even more pleased with his decision to stop by this morning. "Are you making much progress on the marking?" he asked as he took a seat in front of her desk.

"Although it probably doesn't look like it from the stacks of parchment everywhere, I am. There were even fewer to grade this weekend since the second and third years have all managed to catch up and no longer take the exams." She wanted to add her frustration with the upper years but hesitated due to her audience.

Severus sensed that there was more to say but wasn't sure what she left unsaid. "Does this mean you'll be attending dinner tonight, then?"

His casual delivery of the question had her answering before considering that he rarely said anything without a purpose. "Yes, I'll be there." She laughed before adding, "I've forgotten what is served on Saturday nights! I haven't been since the term began."

"I've noticed," he said almost under his breath. But, it was quiet enough in the office that Hermione caught it nonetheless. She refrained from outwardly reacting to it but made her heart flutter to hear that he, dare she think, missed her at dinner.

"Well, I'm afraid tonight won't be much of a reflection of the elves' usual Saturday night fare. Since most of the students will have spent the day in Hogsmeade overindulging, tonight will be much like the normal week night meals."

"Oh, I'd forgotten. No wonder the castle has been so quiet this morning." With a smirk, she continued, "And, I guess you've been enjoying _not_ chaperoning today."

"Of course . . though I did spend a few minutes polishing the Quidditch cup trophy." His smile at this could not be confused with his normal smirk causing her to return the smile in earnest.

He paused, wondering if he should continue as planned. Noting the remainder of her grading, however, had him altering his plans slightly. He knew that if he didn't, even if she agreed she would have the work hanging over her head and she wouldn't enjoy herself as much. At least, he hoped she would enjoy the lunch, well now dinner, he orchestrated. After all, today was her birthday.

"I've kept you away from your marking long enough," he said as he stood from his chair. "I'll see you later."

His tone implied it was more of a question so she answered, "Yes, until later."

Before he could reach the door, she added, "I should have this finished by three." She didn't know why she felt the need to inform him of this, but she couldn't stop her mouth from saying the words.

His parting nod assured her that he had heard her.

Shortly before three, Hermione filed away the last of the exams and set about dusting off her desk. She carefully moved the owl Severus had given her so it wouldn't get bumped by the charmed feather duster that was making short work of the table top.

Suddenly, a live owl swooped in through the open window. It was a brown school barn owl that was rather unremarkable. But, it carried an envelope in its beak toward her, landing with a small scratching noise as its feet clacked onto the clean desk. She so rarely received owls that she didn't have any treats for it.

The spiky scrawling handwriting forming her name on the front of it seemed vaguely familiar. On the back, a green wax seal with a large 'S' sealed the triangular point of the envelope in place. She ran her fingers along the dried wax, tracing the calligraphy 'S'. Rather than breaking the seal as she was tempted to do, she found the letter opener from her top drawer and sliced it open. Inside, Hermione found a short letter from the Professor:

_Hermione,_

_Happy Birthday, Professor Granger. I would be very honored if you would accompany me to dinner tonight. We will be venturing to Diagon Alley at 6:30 if you are agreeable._

_Severus Snape_

The letter was short and concise, yet she had to read it three times through to be sure she had read it correctly. Hermione didn't know how he discovered it was her birthday; her parents' owl came earlier when she was alone in her office, so she assumed no one at Hogwarts knew.

Her mouth was suddenly dry as her heart beat accelerated. The Professor . . Severus . . wanted to have dinner with her. She couldn't deny that she was excited at the prospect of accompanying him; this would be the first date she'd been on since moving back to Britain. As soon as that thought entered her mind, another conflicting one materialized. Was it a date? Or, was he just being kind since it's her birthday? Oh, who was she kidding - this was a date in every sense of the word.

All of the subtle nuances that she had noticed since their initial meeting made her smile - the doors he held open for her back in the summer when they were shopping for supplies, his refusal to let her pay when _she_ invited _him_ to lunch, the gentlemanly way he held her chair when they arrived in the Great Hall at the same time, not to mention the lovely evening they enjoyed at the Fall Gala before the Ministry started spewing educational edicts.

The Sunday night patrols had become the highlight of her week; spending those few hours talking with him about her week and listening as he counted the number of dunderheads that tried to blow up his dungeons was relaxing and enjoyable. Their discussions concerning their research endeavors were stimulating and often had them so caught up that they would make a second round through their patrol of the towers before they noticed their lack of progress.

She felt herself smiling and knew there was nothing really to decide, of course she would join him. After penning a brief reply, she carried the owl back to the window instructing it to fly directly to the Professor. She couldn't wait until dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

**More Than Expected**

**by Clover Bay**

For the first time in weeks, Hermione's mind was not on school work, rather she was completely distracted by the prospect of dinner with Severus. She perused her closet looking for the perfect dress to wear for her evening with him. It was almost a foreign feeling, searching for clothes that were designed to flatter her and garner attention rather than detract from her appearance like her school robes did. She wasn't that much older than the seventh years - in some cases she could easily have been their older sister. So, in an effort to distance herself from them, she had maintained a strict dress code that made her look more professional and, depending on the cut of the robes in question, older than her true age. She knew that the severe bun she wore inside her classroom only added to the strict, school-teacher persona, but it was necessary. Tonight, though, Severus was taking her out and she intended to take full advantage of her time away from the castle.

The little black dress that she bought on a whim caught her eye as she shuffled the hangers along the bar in her closet. Holding it up to her in front of the mirror, she turned slightly to the left and then to the right. It fell just above her knees, but the movement made it dance higher without being too revealing.

She decided that she wanted to feel as feminine as she looked tonight. The silk slip that fit her like a glove, caressed her skin in a way her everyday robes failed at miserably. She took the time to paint her toenails a pretty shade of pink. This was her one constant indulgence. Even if no one ever saw her feet except for herself, she wanted them to be polished. Usually, the brighter and more vibrant the better. But, tonight, she went with a more traditional color. She took the extra time and effort to make her hair fall nicely around her shoulders, which in itself felt pleasant since they were almost bare with only the straps from her dress touching.

Looking back up into the mirror after putting her make-up away, she couldn't help but smile. She looked pretty, and she felt pretty. She wasn't going to all of this trouble for Severus; rather, it was because of him. His invitation gave her the perfect opportunity to pamper herself and remember, for an evening, what life was like outside of the castle. Secretly, though, she hoped he would like what he saw. Her feelings for him had only grown deeper as they spent more time together, and she wanted this date to be perfect.

Turning away from the mirror at the sound of a knock, Hermione opened the door to find a very handsome Professor waiting on the other side. He always felt much taller than her; though her high heels helped to close the gap, she still needed to tilt her head slightly to look into his eyes. It seemed that a million different emotions flitted across his face, moving so quickly that Hermione didn't even have time to place them all. When he took her hand in his, passing his lips softly across the top of it, the message became perfectly clear.

Severus had taken the 'scenic' route to Hermione's rooms. He cursed himself for the sudden nervousness that he felt. After all, he was the one who suggested the date in the first place. He originally planned to take her to lunch, a less formal meal that could lead to more romantic dinners in the future. Watching her pour over the parchments in her office made him reconsider and adjust the setting. It had just been so long since his last date that he felt rusty and a bit archaic. More than once he wondered if he would meet her expectations. He didn't want to ruin his chance with Hermione; but, from all indications at the Fall Gala, that wasn't likely. So, as he stood, hand raised at her door, he tried to push all of his self-depreciating thoughts away.

When she opened the door, every thought left his brain. Hermione was just as beautiful as she had been that night in August when he spotted her in the entry way. More so, perhaps, since this evening was just about the two of them. He had never seen her wear her hair down and the temptation to run his hands through it compelled him to move. Coming to his senses, Severus bowed, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it. As he drew back to his full height, he saw her hazel eyes widened by the surprise of his gesture and a blush that acknowledged she was pleased with his actions.

As the two exited the castle, they went unnoticed by the students who were engrossed in discussions of their time in Hogsmeade and enjoying their dinners. However, a pair of twinkling blue eyes from the head table caught their departure. Albus wasn't surprised to feel the nudge against his arm as Minerva spotted the pair.

"Albus, they were leaving . . together," she said excitedly.

"So it would seem," he answered noncommittally.

"They were walking arm-in-arm. And, he held the door open for her."

The tone of disbelief in his deputy's voice was clear even through the whispered conversation. "My dear Professor," he said kindly, "we've always known he was a gentleman. He just doesn't always show that side of himself around the castle."

After glancing down the length of the head table, Albus saw that he and Minerva must have been the only ones to notice the Potions Master and Charms Mistress leave. This new development was certainly going to make for an interesting year.

Severus and Hermione apparated from a point just beyond the Hogwarts gates, arriving on one of the quieter streets adjacent to Diagon Alley. She kept her arm draped through his, which neither minded as it allowed them to maintain contact with the other.

Hermione found herself slightly lightheaded as the spicy scent of Severus's aftershave teased her senses; she didn't know whether to be sad that she would miss seeing the stubble adorning his face tonight or pleased that he had taken the effort to look so nice for their date. The quiet sigh that escaped her lips belied her true feelings and promptly ended her inner debate. She couldn't help the slight blush warming her cheeks as Severus looked down and smiled at her reaction.

"This is such a nice surprise. I envisioned a dreary evening trapped in the castle," Hermione said softly as they walked leisurely toward the restaurant. "By the way, you never said exactly where it was we're going."

With a smirk tugging at his lips, Severus answered, "It wouldn't be much of a surprise, then."

She didn't push for an immediate answer, content that it would be revealed soon enough. It added to the ambiance of the evening that he not only planned their date but he purposely wanted to surprise her. The light wind cooled the air around them causing her to lean closer to him.

"You look very lovely tonight," he said sincerely.

"Thank you." She looked up to add, "You look very handsome as well."

Aside from some of his more trusted colleagues, Severus had few conversations that he could take at face value. With Hermione, he could accept her words as genuine. Because of that, he let himself become absorbed by her compliments. He noticed that she, too, must not receive compliments on her person often enough if the pink staining her cheeks was any indication.

As they continued their short walk to the restaurant, Severus watched her from the corner of his eye as he added, "I was happy to see your acceptance when Artimus returned . . . I've been looking for an opportunity to ask you to dinner."

Focusing on the cobbled road in front of them, Hermione squeezed his arm before replying. "You didn't have to wait for an occasion like this . . I would have been happy to accept."

The smile they shared carried them into a comfortable silence as they arrived at the Mediterranean restaurant. He could tell her interest was piqued. Since she had only recently returned to the country, she probably wouldn't have eaten here before. Taking their seats, which he held before sitting across from her, Severus began talking about the restaurant. "When this restaurant first opened, the witch and wizard who own the establishment couldn't decide what type of food to serve. He wanted a casual pub with comfort food and free flowing drinks. His wife, on the other hand, had always dreamed of opening a place where she could prepare the traditional Greek and Mediterranean fare that she had grown up with. In an effort to compromise, they spent the first few months alternating between the two; restaurant during the day, pub at night or pub on the weekends and Greek food during the week. Unfortunately for him, the patrons prefer her cooking to his ale."

"But fortunately for us, she won," Hermione said as she looked around at the traditionally decorated interior. "It feels as if we've stepped into another world - as if Diagon Alley and Britain are miles away."

"Indeed."

She laughed quietly at his response. She could tell he wasn't offended but curious at her reaction. "So much can be said with so few words . . . ."

"Indeed." This time, they both laughed.

They talked quietly over the menu before deciding to order. Her only request was that her food not include mushrooms, something that amazed him since he could add them to anything set before him. The waiter looked to Severus expectantly, so he ordered for both of them after seeing Hermione nod in confirmation.

She was pleasantly surprised when the family style food was set before them; the olives, cheeses, artichokes, and breads were combined on a large platter. Soon they were both helping themselves; occasionally their forks clinked together as they attempted to spear a cube of cheese or a large olive. When he let her have the calamita olive, she collected it on her fork before offering it to him. Severus would later look back on their evening and wonder how the other patrons could stand being at the tables next to theirs. His and Hermione's behavior had been outside of their normal 'professor' manner, but during dinner they allowed themselves to be completely wrapped up in their date - letting their guards down and just enjoying themselves. Had he been more observant, he might have noticed the lone man sitting in the far corner of the restaurant; the barely touched food and slowly consumed drink would have alerted Severus to be cautious of his ulterior motives.

After their main courses arrived, she said, "I am curious about something . . . how did you know it was my birthday? I'm sure I never told anyone at Hogwarts."

"I . ." he cleared his throat before continuing, "I might have remembered seeing it on your resume." He hoped he didn't sound like a creep admitting to having looked back through her letter.

"You must have a very good memory," she quipped with a skeptical look.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said in a faux haughty tone. "Actually, I wanted to locate your article on dark arts removal and was looking through your resume two weeks ago." He did seek out the journal listing, but he purposely sought out her birthday. She didn't need to know that, though.

"Well, however you found out, I'm glad you used the information so wisely. I don't think I've ever been on a date where I've enjoyed myself more."

Her sincerity made him want to stare into her eyes and look away at the same time; as long as he could remember, no one had ever truly wanted to be in his company this way and he was at a loss as how to respond.

They continued their dinner, both feeling as if they could talk about everything and nothing at the same time. When the time came for dessert, rather than continue at the restaurant, he ordered their baklava to go and helped Hermione to her feet. "I'm pleased that you've enjoyed our date thus far, but we must be going if we want to catch the next part."

His cryptic message was intriguing. Hermione had never seen this side of him before, so full of surprises that he was literally keeping her on her toes.

Handing her their boxed dessert, he said, "If you'll hold onto this, I'll take us to our next location."

When she opened her eyes, she saw that they were atop a small hill outside of the city. Scattered around the green acreage were small benches, some occupied, but most remained empty; blankets dotted the ground, spaced far enough apart that each group maintained their privacy. Hermione's eyes caught couples snuggling together as well as friends relaxing with their heads tilted back and looking toward the sky. Feeling a gentle tug on her hand, Hermione followed Severus to one of the unoccupied benches.

"Tonight, the Kenley Comet is scheduled to pass closely enough to be seen without the aid of a telescope . . ."

"Ooo," Hermione interrupted, "the blue showers are supposed to accompany it!"

Smiling at her recognition and excitement, he nodded before continuing, "The tail of the comet will cause the sky to be illuminated with divergent blue streaks." He slipped back into lecture mode momentarily but neither noticed as she listened raptly to his explanation. "Hopefully, it will be dark enough for us to see them in all of their glory."

And, they were not disappointed. By the time they had eaten the last crumbs of their baklava, night had fallen. Hermione sat leaning into Severus, with his cloak draped across her legs and his hand rubbing gently against the bare skin of her arm as the seemingly slow-moving comet emerged from behind a cloud. The white comet contrasted with the bright blue sparks that fell in its wake like the remnants of celebratory fireworks.

Hermione looked up at Severus, admiring his strong facial features and inhaling the lingering scent of his aftershave. Raising her hand, she touched his cheek and turned his willing face toward her. With a moment's hesitation, she brought her lips to his. She felt his arm tighten around her until she pulled away.

"In case I've forgotten to tell you, I've had a wonderful time tonight. And I . . I didn't want our first kiss to be in the halls of Hogwarts." Her quiet monologue had him returning the gesture. He tipped her chin up, leaning down to caress her lips with his.

Severus and Hermione walked together back to her rooms, finding their path to be void of students who should have been in their common rooms. She slid his cloak off of her shoulders and draped it neatly across her arm before handing it back to him. "Thank you, again, for a wonderful birthday." Her hand lingered on his for a moment, then she disappeared behind her door.

"It was my pleasure," he said quietly to the now closed door.


	15. Chapter 15

**More Than Expected**

**by Clover Bay**

_Sunday_

"Sir, they were spotted near Diagon Alley last night. After they entered the restaurant, I followed them inside and watched them just like you instructed."

"And . . ." Lucius Malfoy drawled with a bored expression, though his eyes sharply followed his associate's every gesture as he recalled last night's observation of Severus Snape and his lady friend.

"They spent exactly two hours and fourteen minutes at the table before leaving with their boxed dessert. They were served . . ."

"Come on with it, man. I don't have all day for you to explain each course of their meal. Tell me what you observed, not just what you saw." Lucius's patience was wearing thin.

Clearing his throat nervously, the dark-haired man continued, "Well, as I was saying," he said before realizing how Mr. Malfoy would interpret the statement and quickly pressing on, "the gentleman and his lady lingered over their meals, even going so far as to order five courses. Their somewhat secluded table afforded them privacy, but the body language of the two revealed an intimate setting beyond what the restaurant could provide."

Carmichael was supposed to be as subtle as they came and a keen interpreter of every situation in which he was placed. For these reasons, Lucius steadied his wand hand. Another snide remark, however, and Carmichael would find himself unable to speak in his presence, or anyone else's for that matter.

"You said that they placed an order to go. Dessert. Where did they sojourn after dinner?"

"Snape apparated them silently and I was unable to follow." At the angry look on the aristocrat's face, Carmichael plunged into a litany of excuses ranging from his assignment not dictating anything beyond dinner to the magical prowess of the gentleman he was following.

Snarling at the incompetent informant, Lucius told the man, with the use of his wand and a few well-placed curses, that his services were no longer needed before casting a strong "Obliviate." At least he wouldn't be able to cause harm with no recollection of the assignment. He called Braxton and Antonio to 'escort' him out of the mansion immediately. They were very similar to his old friends, Crabb and Goyle. The key difference in the pairings being that the former were much more physically attractive and less oafish.

After escorting the useless man from the mansion, Braxton and Antonio returned to Lucius's study to find Mr. Malfoy and Philip Parkinson deep in discussion of their next moves regarding Severus Snape.

"I assume you heard the analysis of Snape and Miss Granger's evening."

"You know I did - I saw everything through Duke's eyes," Philip answered.

"Then you know of the wasted opportunity we had! All we know is that they were sitting 'intimately' together at a restaurant. With the deviation in our plan at the Fall Gala and now the incomplete evening, we have lost too much time in executing our plan! It is time for action . . ."

Lucius's tirade was interrupted by one of the few men who could do so and live to speak of it again. "Lucius, patience has never been your strong suit." Both men remembered the careless handling and discarding of the Dark Lord's precious book as well as countless raids led by the elder Malfoy as the Dark Lord attempted to take control for the second time. "But, this requires more finesse. And, I believe I have just the means to injure Snape."

Gauging his friend's reaction, Philip continued. "Duke has been planted in the castle for several weeks. Miss Granger is accustomed to seeing him and following on occasion. It is time to use him to drive a wedge between her and the _illustrious_ Severus Snape."

"I will not be satisfied until I see his total demise," Lucius vowed.

"Again, I must remind you that he will remain vigilant against an open attack and we must utilize our cunning to its greatest advantage."

With a resigned sigh, Lucius finished the drink waiting for him on the corner of his desk. "What did you have in mind?"

With a smirk worthy of any true Slytherin, Philip Parkinson poured himself a drink and began to explain.

* * *

Hermione and Severus finished their rounds a full hour later than normal. Both had been more reserved initially but soon fell back into their easy professional relationship. Before either even realized it, their discussions from the night before continued. While neither attempted to recreate the romance of their date, they felt a closeness that had been missing as each hallway, staircase, and alcove was diligently searched for students. They both secretly enjoyed catching someone out-of-bounds. It was a cat and mouse game that had them stealthily creeping up to the students' favorite hiding spots.

"I wonder which house will lose the most points tonight?" Hermione mused as they entered the Astronomy tower.

"Your guess is as good as mine. However," the haughty drawl drug out the word as he walked a little taller and said, "I would venture that the house to lose the _fewest_ points will be Slytherin."

"You seem awfully confident, Professor Snape," Hermione said with a calculating look. "Would you care to make a small wager?"

He cast a sideways glance at her before answering, "Name your terms."

The challenge had been issued and accepted. Hermione was enthralled with the handsome man walking beside her and wanted a prize that she had thought about since they arrived at her chambers the night before. "I need to look over my lessons planned for tomorrow, so we'll be separating at my office tonight. When I win, I want a proper good-night . . ." She could see the hesitancy in his eyes so she rushed to add, " . . . in my office. That, of course, is nothing the students need to be privy to."

The idea of kissing her had his body reacting immediately. But, the chance of being caught by any number of students or nosy portraits caused him to slow his pace and cast a cautious glance at Hermione. But, when she finished outlining her part of the wager, he could definitely see the benefits of him losing. However, he had no plans to lose.

"I'll see your wager, and when _I_ win, we will have to detour to my office where we will begin our proper good-night and repeat that performance as we end our rounds at _your_ office."

Hermione and Severus each wore satisfied smirks as they continued through the Astronomy Tower and upper levels of the castle. True to his prediction, the Slytherins had the fewest students out-of-bounds with zero compared to the two, three, and six from the other houses.

As they entered the lower levels of the castle and made their way to Severus's dungeon office, they began to walk a little faster in anticipation.

Severus unlocked and unwarded the door before stepping aside and letting Hermione enter first. With her back still to him, Severus offered her a chance to renegotiate their wager if she so chose. The heated look in her eyes gave him all of the answer he needed and stepped forward, kissing her more passionately than he dared to at the hilltop.

They were both panting, their breathing the only noises in the office as they parted. She gently raised her hand to wipe off the small amount of lipstick that clung to his mouth before leading them back to the door.

At her office, she ushered him into the room before brazenly initiating their second round of snogging. This time, it was much sweeter and less rough. Neither felt this one had to be rushed. She draped her arms over his shoulders and lightly ran her fingers through his hair as she leaned into him. The warmth of his body conflicted with the chills his kisses inspired, causing her to murmur unintelligibly, sounding more like a soft moan than anything else.

He welcomed her small body being pressed closely to his; he couldn't stop his hands from rubbing gently across her back as he pulled her tighter into him.

It was after eleven when she finally locked the office and made her way to her rooms. Once again, the anti-social ghost materialized ahead of her. As with past encounters, the more Hermione sped up, the faster the ghost glided along the hallway. She didn't particularly care that the ghost wouldn't respond to her calls since she really had nothing of importance to say to him, but she was curious as to why its 'personality' - if it could be called that - was vastly different from the other Hogwarts' ghosts.

As he disappeared around the next corner, Hermione jogged to catch up. The mystery intrigued her and she grew impatient to find out more about him.

The hallway was empty aside from a silver shimmering vial laying in the windowsill halfway down the hall. She approached cautiously until she was able to identify the object as one containing memories. Students rarely had access to pensieves so she deduced that it must belong to one of her fellow professors. But, she didn't know how to locate its owner without viewing them so she decided to watch just enough to determine whom to contact.

Carefully picking up the unattended vial, she returned to the office where she pulled her private pensieve from the cabinet behind her desk. Uncorking the vial, she poured the memories into the bowl. They immediately started swirling around - a greyish strand was entwined with silver and egg-shell colored ones. The memories parted until they were segregated into three distinct spheres of the pensieve. She chose to view the darkest one first since it was obviously the oldest.

Hermione felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she leaned closer to the rune-carved bowl. Leaning back quickly, she decided to use a charm to project the memory rather than requiring her to be immersed in them.

A dark scene unfolded with dozens of dark-robed wizards kneeling in front of a hazy, faceless being. As the being stood, the audience fell prostrate onto the stone floor. A hissing voice called for them to stand, a command that was adhered to instantly.

Hermione had to strain to hear its next words. "My most faithful sssspy . . . tell me, what news have you?"

"The light side is faltering . . ." She heard familiarity in the deep voice, but she couldn't quite place it. "The most recent attack left them scrambling . . . ."

As she stared at the scene, the view changed and the faces of the room's occupants became less fuzzy - they were all masked figures, concealed faces of Deatheaters.

In horror, she cancelled the charm and returned the memories to their circular confinement. Her pulse was racing and her breathing shallow. There was none of the thrill she'd experienced earlier with Severus; this was alarming, frightening, even though it was a mere memory.

As she tried to decide what to do with them, the clock struck midnight, chiming deeply and echoing in the halls. Returning the memories to their original vial, Hermione decided to wait until morning to take them to . . . she was at a quandary: did she give them to Severus with his position as Deputy Headmaster, or did she take them directly to Professor Dumbledore? The answer, she decided, was to give them to Severus. Not only did she feel more comfortable with him, but this would keep the chain of command in tact - her taking the problem to her immediate supervisor.

It would just have to wait until morning, though.


	16. Chapter 16

**More Than Expected**

**by Clover Bay**

_Monday . . ._

Hermione sat alone at the Head Table early the next morning having been unable to sleep or get anything productive done. Glimpses from the penseive flashed in her mind when she closed her eyes. While she lived and went to school outside of Britain, she was still very much affected by the last war against Voldemort. The evil and hatred of those supporting his cause ignored country borders and lines drawn on a map by some politician or monarch. One would truly have to be naive to be unaffected by the memories of the scenes from the penseive - it was a visual representation of the fears that shaped the world in which she grew up.

Strumming her fingers along the wood grain of the table, she wondered how much longer it would be before breakfast was served. She wasn't usually hungry in the mornings, having only a light meal to tide her over until lunch; but, on a regular school day she wouldn't have been awake long enough to work up an appetite. As if reading her mind, the table started to fill with food: the components of a full English breakfast sat before her in the various serving bowls along with sweet smelling cantaloupes and strawberries that should have been long out of season. Since there were only a few early rising students, she filled her plate full and began eating heartily.

It was nearly time for the first classes of the morning yet Severus had not made it to the Great Hall. She wanted to speak with him badly - feeling as though sharing the burden of the mysterious vial of memories would quell some of her uneasiness. Although she had already decided to talk to the Professor first, she might have entertained the thought of talking with the headmaster but he was absent from breakfast as well. As she glanced down the length of the teachers' table, she saw another prominent seat that remained empty. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's plate gleamed in the morning light, as clean as it had been when Hermione arrived.

She looked toward the shorter end of the table to her left, hoping to find a friendly face to ask the reason for the empty chairs. Unfortunately, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was nearest to her; he had been one of those who had scowled in her direction when she was introduced as the newest member of the faculty. He even went so far as to ignore her completely in the staff lounge. There were several professors who treated her this way, as if her mere presence was a bother to them and she was inferior.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Fawkes, the headmaster's beautiful phoenix, landed in front of her bearing a tightly furled scroll in its beak. Having cleared her plate earlier, Hermione took a fresh strip of bacon from the dish near her and exchanged it for the parchment as Fawkes trilled happily. She knew that the missive came directly from Dumbledore, as did the others at the Head Table. Intending to finish her juice and open the letter after casually leaving the Great Hall, Hermione brought her half-filled glass to her lips.

Pomona appeared at her side, situating herself in Severus's seat. "Perhaps you should read that directly," she gently encouraged in a quiet voice. "If it weren't important, Fawkes wouldn't have been sent."

Hermione understood her friend's logic and agreed. Putting on her 'game face', she used her knife to cut the wax seal and unroll the parchment. Lowering it to her lap so that only she and Pomona would be able to read its contents, her eyes quickly scanned the letter. She felt a comforting pat on her back as she heard more reassuring words. She refused to let her emotions show themselves on her face, especially with so many students and colleagues present. When she left the table, scroll in hand, the group of professors who had been sitting to her left smirked in her direction as if they knew the contents of the message she had just received. Actually, she wouldn't put it past them to pull a stunt like this.

The walk to the headmaster's office had never seemed longer than it was this morning. Her mind was reeling as she prepared to defend herself against the challenges that she was about to face. Straightening her robes and brushing her hair down with her hands, Hermione breathed deeply as her full stomach churned in reaction to the meeting being held beyond the door in front of her.

"Professor Granger, do come in," Professor Dumbledore said with a serene, calm voice.

Hermione was momentarily overwhelmed by the number of people in the office. Not only were the headmaster and both deputies there, but a handful of unknown faces standing near Dolores Umbridge. After nodding in polite acknowledgment in each person's direction, her gaze lingered on the Professor. Although his mask was firmly in place, Hermione had learned to discern his subtle nuances and knew he was trying to convey some message to her. Dumbledore, however, drew her attention back to himself when he began to speak once again.

"As you are already aware, the Professional Standards Edict is administered by the Ministry of Magic and will include the analysis of the end-of-year exams given at the conclusion of the term. There . . . ." Dumbledore was rather rudely interrupted by Umbridge with her simpering voice that made Hermione want to cringe.

"We at the Ministry plan to take an active role in monitoring the progress of the students under the tutelage of . . . _novice_ teachers." She said the word in a condescending manner, clearly trying to establish herself as having the upper hand. Clearing her throat, she continued unconcerned that she just interrupted one of the most powerful wizards in Britain, "We, and by we I mean myself and my two secretaries, will be observing Charms classes at our discretion this week. Today, we will be attending _all_ of the classes and recording information about your teaching techniques."

Hermione held the stoic expression she'd entered with. She was seething inside, though. The original edict clearly stated that the Ministry would not interfere, basing its sole judgement on the Owl and NEWT scores of the students.

"As I was saying," this time Umbridge looked annoyed that Hermione hadn't been hanging on her every word, "it has come to our attention that this monitoring has become necessary."

She wanted to demand to hear the names of those who would try to undermine and attempt to sabotage her, but a subtle look toward Severus helped her to regain focus. If anyone were to know, it would be him; and, he would tell her whenever they were alone. Turning back toward the headmaster, Hermione waited to be dismissed.

She carefully prepared each lesson in order to teach her students as much as possible; her material was sound in both the area of Charms and in educational precedent. But, the additional eyes and quills following her every move made the day extremely stressful; not only was she being watched, the students were questioned and detained from their work. Probably the most frustrating aspect of the 'inspection' was how little control Hermione had over the situation; it made her feel as if she were being punished or reprimanded when she had done nothing wrong.

Hermione couldn't wait to speak with Severus. Tomorrow. It would have to wait until tomorrow. Umbridge and her secretaries had taken their meals with the staff and shadowed Hermione to the point where she could hardly use the restroom by herself let alone talk with the Professor. The penseive memories lay temporarily forgotten, locked in the cabinet behind her desk.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

_Tuesday_

The day broke early once again for Hermione. Yesterday had been stressful and nerve wracking, leaving her exhausted. Her sleep, though, was invaded by dreams of things going horribly wrong in her classroom: students forgetting how to perform the simplest of charms, belligerent classes refusing to work, and of all things that would _never_ happen, her arriving late only to find Umbridge teaching it herself. Because of this fitful sleep, Hermione decided to get up rather than tossing and turning for another hour.

For the second morning in a row, she sat alone at the Head Table waiting for breakfast to begin. And, if she thought she was hungry yesterday, it was nothing compared to the rumbling in her stomach now. She had been so keyed up that she skipped lunch and dinner to review her notes and make sure she was fully prepared for her classes. If not for the Professor, Monday might have been a complete wash.

Last night her desk was covered with syllabi, notes, and open charms texts when she heard the unmistakable tapping of an owl at her office window. The cloth covered package it brought dropped carefully into her lap with a soft thump. Inside was a Reuben sandwich, her favorite. The black 'SS' initials monogrammed on the handkerchief was all the signature she needed to know that Severus was behind this sweet gesture. Even when he was unable to make a demonstrative show of support, things like this made her appreciate him all the more.

Just as the Head Table started to fill with food, Hermione felt a warm hand on her shoulder and the spicy scent that could only be Severus's shaving lotion teasing her nose. Since they were the only ones in the Great Hall, they allowed themselves to relax momentarily and give the other a genuine smile. Hermione's countenance was bolstered by the presence of her ally. She reached into her robe pocket, producing the freshly laundered dinner napkin she'd received last night. Pressing it gently into his hand, his fingers captured hers, squeezing gently before releasing them to take the kerchief.

Severus purposely left his rooms early this morning wanting to have a few minutes to spend with Hermione. Having only seen her in the headmasters' office when she was blind-sided by the ministry's arrival, he had no opportunity to explain that neither he nor Albus and Minerva knew anything about this surprise inspection. Before saying anything, though, she had graced him with a beautiful smile. The blush that colored her cheeks as she returned the remnants of his very impromptu picnic for one stirred something within his chest that he had begun feeling more and more when he was around her.

"Yesterday was a surprise for everyone," he began. "I would have forewarned you had I known of Umbridge's arrival." Hermione almost laughed at the snarl on his face as he said Umbridge's name, and would have if she hadn't agreed with the sentiment herself.

Leaning closer to him, Hermione spoke quietly as the Great Hall was starting to fill with students. "I never thought you would keep something like this to yourself." Her reassuring words were cut short by the arrival of additional professors to their table causing both of them to return the stoic expressions to their faces.

Yesterday, Hermione had to contend with the constant presence of Madam Umbridge and her two lackeys, scribbling frantically and noisily atop their clipboards. So far today, they hadn't interrupted her first class nor had they bothered her first-year students.

This group of Slytherins and Gryffindors was among her favorite classes. Of course she knew about the intense inter-house rivalries, having been given quite a few details from Severus. But, that had only endeared her to this group all the more. From the first day, they worked hard to out-perform their adversaries. She took advantage of their motivation, pushing them to master skills and begin the early process of applying them to real world situations. To say that they were advanced would be an understatement. Their Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw counterparts were only intrinsically motivated, leaving the class as a whole moving at a more sedate pace.

Because of all of the competition among the students, they worked diligently, as diligently as eleven and twelve year olds could. It was, perhaps, the personality of this class that helped them to respond so well to her teaching. Earlier in the year, Hermione had been explaining Keaton's basic charms principles when she was clearly reminded of the differences between first years and the upper classmen.

"When casting the charm and deciding what else to do, do not hesitate; have a plan ready before you begin."

The boys began to snicker behind their hands. Realizing that something had happened and her trained eyes missed it, she decided to repeat herself while focusing her attention on the group of Gryffindor boys at the back of the classroom. "As I was saying, when casting the charm and deciding what to do do not hes-i-ta-te . . ." She let her words trail off as not only the Gryffindors but also the Slytherins began to laugh.

When she called on one of them to explain the disruptance, he stood reluctantly. His red face and barely contained laughter had him scrambling for words. "Professor Granger, ma'am," her he took a deep breath to regain his composure, "well, you see, you said _doo doo_ . . . ."

At his last words, his classmates, of both houses, erupted in a fit of giggles. She could hardly blame them, though. To an eleven year old, the word was still funny; but, she had to make sure they knew it wasn't acceptable to disrupt class. With a suppressed grin of her own, she asked, "Now, what do you suppose I should do for this massive outburst in class?"

When she raised a single brow, many of them wondered if they had stumbled into Professor Snape's class by mistake. When no one answered, she said, "If each of you can write the list of Keaton's five basic principles when we get into class tomorrow, we'll consider the incident forgotten." As they were packing up to leave at the end of that class period, she reminded them that the word _do_ only had one 'o'.

Since then, every moment, even the unintentional slips of the tongue became teachable moments for their spunky young group.

Hermione was half-way through with today's less when they were disrupted by the creaking of the heavy wooden door and the clacking of Umbridge's flamingo pink heels. She groaned silently at the walking joke waiting to happen. She could only hope that the first years had learned when it was appropriate to point out their own special brand of humor.

"Don't mind us, Professor. We'll just be milling around." The fake smile plastered on her face wasn't lost on any of them.

Hermione forged on, "We have just reviewed the levitating charm and now we will identify the ways in which to apply it." Seeing a hand raised, she turned to the board, picked up her chalk, and prepared to make a list of their suggestions. "Yes, Kim."

"Food, as in levitating food from one place on the table to another."

"Very good example. What else? John."

"Books. My mum levitates her cook books to the shelf above the dishes since she can't reach that high."

"Excellent. Liam, you look as though you wanted to add something." The stern look on her face told him to quit talking to his neighbor and pay attention.

"Well, ma'am . . ." Oh no, Hermione groaned internally again. In this class, only one thing ever followed a _well ma'am_. "According to Keaton's principles, you could levitate just about anything as long as you first have an intended goal."

Hermione tried to keep her shoulders from shaking as she turned her back to the class to add 'Keaton' to the list on the board.

A simpering voice and a not-so-subtle clearing of the throat interrupted her lesson. "And, what may I ask, are Keaton's principles?"

The class was dumbfounded that an adult would have to ask. As far as they could tell, Hermione too for that matter, realized that Umbridge really didn't have a clue as to what Liam was referring to. It was simple - funny, but simple. In unison, the class began to recite the list, being careful to accentuate the pause between the _do _and the _do_.

With a foolish look plastered on her face, Umbridge cleared her throat and began speaking as if dictating to someone, although she was doing her own writing. " . . . teaching material that is too advanced for their young minds . . . ."

Hermione had never been more thankful for the bell to signal the end of class. She would have had a difficult time reprimanding the students for speaking out of turn when defending their own intelligence.

Umbridge and her two associates scurried out of the room as if afraid they would be trampled by the students running out. If she had really been paying attention yesterday, she would have known that Hermione dismissed her classes, not the bell.

"Five points . . to each of you for your accurate recitation of Keaton's principles." Hermione smirked at her students before dismissing them and wishing them a good day.

Later that night, Hermione met up with Severus as she was patrolling the halls. When they were far from the prying eyes of the portraits and roaming students, she regaled him with Umbridge's observation of her first years. They laughed at the youngest students at Hogwarts outsmarting Umbridge.

Hermione was the first to sober and brought up the fact that, although it was humorous, she still had marks against her with Umbridge's report.

"Remember, the report is _not_ what determines your teaching ability or the length of your career. Only the OWL and NEWT scores should be factored into the ministry's decision."

Hermione was reminded once again of just how special Severus was. Before she could suggest that they make their way to her office, they bumped into the current bane of her existence.

The two Professors became tight-lipped at the sight of Umbridge. What they intended to relay was a short, curt greeting and be on their way. However, Umbridge took it upon herself to initiate a much different conversation.

"Professor Snape . . Granger . . ."

She got no further before Severus interrupted her, demanding that she address Professor Granger by her given title and extend the professional courtesy her position called for. "Do _not_ speak to a Hogwarts' professor in such a common manner. Professor Granger has twice the number of academic degrees that you do and yet there was a time you allowed yourself to be called as such." Severus's eyes were cold and calculating as he continued, "And furthermore, her expertise in the field of Charms is cutting edge." His lips were barely moving as he finished his dressing down of the diminutive ministry official.

Hermione was shocked at Severus's outburst; she barely managed to maintain a composed expression on her face. Her already high opinion of him grew exponentially as he defended her. With an even straighter back and emotionless face, she turned from Severus back toward Umbridge.

Flustered, but grasping to get the upper hand in this informal meeting, she changed her tactics in an attempt to make Severus and Hermione's patrol look seedy. "And what, may I ask, are two professors doing roaming the dark, abandoned corridors at this hour?"

Hermione responded first. "You may ask, but as we are not required to answer this could be a rather long evening."

Smirking, the Professor added, "Among the many things you are unaware of, Professors patrol the halls each evening and as they deem it necessary. Of course, you would not know this considering you never lowered yourself to perform such menial tasks during your time here."

Without waiting for a response, Severus allowed Hermione to step in front of him while following her out of the tower and into a nearby corridor. Neither upset their brisk pace to discuss the encounter with Umbridge, wanting to be behind closed doors lest they be overheard by one of the portraits.

Finally, Hermione broke the silence and spoke in a quiet voice. "There was a twinkle in her eyes, a kind of spark I hadn't noticed before."

Missing the smug expression on her face, Severus blurted out, "She's a gossip. And, the worst kind of gossip because she reports back to the ministry."

With a smirk, Hermione replied, "Oh, you're probably right. But, there was something else, something more . . ."

"What do you mean?" he asked as he finally met her eyes and saw the mischievous expression.

They heard the rustling of a suit of armor and stopped, waiting to see if they would be able to catch a student out of bed. Mrs. Norris, the cat, ambled into the hallway in front of them. The cat disappeared around another corner so they resumed their trek to Hermione's office.

Continuing where she left off, Hermione said, "She had a predatory gleam in her eyes - like she was going after something." Pausing for dramatic effect, Hermione waited before adding, "She wasn't obsessive, was she? Or had a crush on you when she taught here?"

Severus's neck twisted toward her so quickly that a series of little pops was heard as the vertebra realigned themselves. "I'm . . I'm sure that . . I don't . . ."

Hermione couldn't contain her laughter at Severus's nearly speechless comeback to her teasing.

"Witch," he growled into her ear. The sound of the words reverberating so closely to her skin caused her to shiver in anticipation and lean closer to him. The timbre of his voice was far from frightening and his dark glower was turning her on more than anything. "So, you think you're funny, hmmm?" The 'hmmm' was spoken so closely that she could fell his breath on her skin.

Using a louder voice, intending for the nearby portraits to overhear them, he said, "Professor, may I use the fireplace in your office to floo to mine?"

"Certainly, Professor." She didn't miss the way he subconsciously licked his lips as she enunciated his title, lingering over the word.

As soon as the door shut behind them, he silenced her teasing tongue with his own, coaxing her mouth open as he deepened the kiss. His long, slender fingers found their way into her wavy hair. He moved his lips from hers, placing small kisses along her cheek and up to her ear.

With a husky whisper, he said between nips at her ear, "Cheeky woman . . never . . mention her . . like that . . again." Without waiting for her to respond, he captured her lips once again.


	18. Chapter 18

_To avoid potential confusion, here is a quick re-cap of some of the characters:_

_Inside Hogwarts_

_Severus Snape - Potions Professor and Deputy Headmaster_

_Hermione Granger - Charms Professor in her first year at Hogwarts in any capacity_

_Outside of Hogwarts_

_Lucius Malfoy and Philip Parkinson - former Death Eaters with a vindictive streak_

_Duke - ghost controlled by Parkinson_

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

"Why hasn't there been some kind of reaction to the memories?" Lucius fumed.

"From what I've seen through Duke, they've been overshadowed by the ministry's monitoring of the ridiculous edict passed this summer," Philip Parkinson reasoned aloud. His level of frustration rivaled that of Malfoy's though he was hiding it much better.

"Do you suppose they have been discarded? Picked up as rubbish and nothing more?"

"The tracking spell placed on the vial assures me that it is in her possession, or at least in her office somewhere. And, from the images Duke portrayed when she found them, I believe curiosity will get the better of her."

"If Duke witnessed all of these things, there shouldn't be any speculation on the matter." The stress of their as of yet ineffective plans was evident in their voices.

"Duke is unable to step beyond the frame of her doors. Being a charms master, she has undoubtedly warded them," Parkinson huffed. "While this is unexpected, it is not insurmountable." After he paused for a moment in silent thought, he turned back toward Lucius. "Perhaps you could speak to someone inside of the ministry and shorten their stay in the castle."

With a rankled expression, Malfoy sneered in anger. "You know my connections have . . . _diminished_."

"Of course, of course. But while Fudge is still roaming the halls, even as a junior representative, you maintain a certain . . sway," Parkinson said, ignoring the heat of the other man's temper that had been directed at him.

* * *

A much more relaxed Professor Granger joined the others in the staff lounge Friday night. It had been two days since Umbridge and the other ministry officials made a hasty retreat from Hogwarts. There had been mixed reactions to their departure, but the general consensus was one of relief.

The duration of the inspection was shorter than they anticipated, and few were sad to see her go. Everyone, with the exception of a few professors at the short end of the staff table - namely Defense Against the Dark Arts, considered dinner that first Umbridge-free night as a celebration. The house elves must have agreed with them because they offered a greater selection of delicious foods at dinner and even set the tables with the golden plates reserved for special occasions; the rather mundane mid-week meal turned into a scrumptious small scale feast. Dumbledore, himself, had cut a slice of her favorite blueberry pie and passed it to her before serving himself in acknowledgment of the end of her first trial set forth by the ministry.

While it had been funny to see the Professor at a loss for words when she teased him about Umbridge, Hermione got the impression that the thought of the deplorable woman in such an intimate way had unnerved him. So, she refrained from making a 'spurned love' comment when Umbridge left so abruptly. The naughty side of her thought about teasing him to see if his lips would offer the same chastisement as she received in her office; she'd even gotten a thrill at thinking about the reward he might give her for adhering to his request to never mention Umbridge again. Unfortunately, they had both been rather busy with their full teaching schedules and hadn't found an opportunity to really talk since that night in her office.

The lounge slowly started to fill as the professors finished their rounds and concluded their evening detentions. Hermione let the remainder of the week's stress melt away as she tossed darts at the board hanging on the wall. She'd been remarkably accurate as she envisioned that simpering face residing inside the bulls eye; time after time she managed to hit her mark. Not once did the darts stray to the pock-marked board behind it.

She had agreed to play spades with Minerva and Pomona if her partner was interested. Aside from the initial invitation to play, Severus had yet to refuse to join her in a game against the former card sharks. Hermione anticipated that their opponents, being known for their abilities to 'share information' while playing cards, would be likely to mention Umbridge which would annoy Severus. Hermione smiled as she thought of how handily they would beat the ladies tonight as he took out his frustration on their opponents. The gossip during the game greatly annoyed him; and, when it got too bad, he and Hermione seemed to win by the greatest margins. This upcoming game brought her thoughts full circle: perhaps it would lead to another heart-pounding, breath taking snogging session.

Pulling her arm back to toss another dart, the red bulls eye shifted in color to a garish shade of pink, the exact color of Umbridge's loud robe she insisted on wearing every day. Hermione thought her eyes were playing tricks on her as she blinked repeatedly. The deep rumbling of Severus's almost-chuckle resonated near her ear, making her quickly realize the color had, in fact, been changed.

"I see you've found the key to my success tonight."

"Indeed."

They were both careful to mask their emotions from the room at large, but the affection at the familiar 'indeed' caused their eyes to soften.

"Would you care to take a turn? It's a wonderful way to relieve tension, especially that particular color of tension." Hermione raised a brow as if challenging him to hit the pink circle.

With a slight nod of his head, he took the proffered dart, looked down to make sure he was standing behind the line marking the proper distance away from the board, and took aim. An offending 'ting' sounded as he hit the wire surrounding the center. Severus took it as a personal affront that the dart didn't land where he aimed. Adjusting the second one in his hand, he took a deep breath before releasing it.

Ting.

Hermione had a mischievous grin on her face as she handed him the third and final dart. Severus was annoyed. He witnessed Hermione hit her mark with a seemingly effortless motion. Now, he couldn't even get it to stick into the board. He never played a game he couldn't win, and this was unacceptable. The next one was going to be perfect if he had to throw his shoulder out with the force of the toss. Just as he released it, he saw a slight movement to his right.

Ting.

"You!" Severus exclaimed while pointing at Hermione.

"Me, what?" Hermione asked in a fairly convincing innocent voice.

"I saw . . ."

Her laughter interrupted his friendly indignation at her tampering with their game. It was this sound that had been missing since the week began and if she needed to use her wand to charm the game in her favor, he wouldn't protest, too much.

After Hermione and Severus easily beat Professors McGonagall and Sprout at several hands of Spades, they offered their seats to another pair of opponents. True to Hermione's prediction, the ladies focused more on their gossip and Umbridge than they did on the game; Severus wanted to save his ears and win the best three out of five as quickly as possible.

They had been around one another so much that Hermione could read the Professor's facial expressions, even his occasional slow deep breath was a tell-tale sign that he had the ace of spades. The quirking of a lone eyebrow which was used to intimidate his students and adversaries meant nothing more in this game than he had a bad hand and would probably not contribute much to their victory.

Severus, too, had learned to interpret his partner's body language. When she rubbed her nose, she had one or more of the face cards; if she crossed her legs to the right, she would play the winning card in that round; and, if she held her cards so that they overlapped to the left, _she_ had the ace of spades.

It wasn't cheating, really, since they never talked about the clues they learned from watching one another; they were just being . . observant.

He escorted Hermione back to her office later that evening in hopes of picking up where they left off the other night. Severus had trouble naming these feelings he had for the lovely witch walking beside him. Her intelligence enabled her to verbally spar with him, challenging him unlike any other woman save for Minerva. But, that was a completely different situation all together.

The spark that lit her eyes when she looked at him in 'that' way excited him; the brush of her hand against his when they walked or when she handed him something, anything, sent a jolt of heat within him. And, her kisses . . she had the ability to convey a sweetness and innocence he could never hope to match while also exuding a smoldering passion that had him clinging to her.

Unlike the times in the past when he had been too timid to acknowledge his feelings, Severus knew he wouldn't make the same mistake with Hermione. He also knew that the time would come when he needed to divulge information concerning his past and they ugly scar hidden under the sleeve of his robe.

Ahead of the two professors, floating along the corridor with his back to them, was the mysterious ghost that Hermione never managed to catch. Seeing it, though, reminded her of the vial of memories that currently resided next to her pensieve.

Disregarding her earlier thoughts of kissing Severus, she turned to him and said, "I found something last weekend, after we parted. It . . it . . well, I'm not sure what to make of it. Can I show you? It's in my office."

Severus gave her a curious look before agreeing.

Inside, Hermione gathered the runic stone basin and emptied the vial into it once again. The same swirling of the memories separated them into three spheres. "I found this vial and brought it back hoping to return it to the professor who had dropped it. I assumed it was a teacher's since few students would have access to a pensieve here at Hogwarts."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I needed to view them in order to identify who they belonged to. Using a charm to project the memories, I saw something . . disturbing."

Interrupting her, Severus interjected, "You didn't want to fall into something unknown." Seeing her nod her head in agreement, he remained silent as she stood beside the pensieve and lifted her wand to raise the first set of memories out of the bowl.

The Death Eater meeting in life-size form seemed to consume half of Hermione's office; the unmistakable voice of the Dark Lord made Severus shiver and clutch his arm. Names, masked faces, harsh voices invaded his senses as his own memories merged with the sight before him. Voices . . Malfoy, LeStrange, Avery, Rosier, Nott, Parkinson . . they all assaulted his ears. Acting out of instinct, he raised his wand and uttered the two words that hadn't crossed his lips in nearly a decade . . "Avada Kedavra!"

Simultaneously, five people responded to his hateful words. Hermione saw the wand pointed in her direction and malice in the face she had come to trust. The green light resulting from those two irrevocable words was soon transformed into the noiseless, sightless black abyss.

Albus and Minerva were in his office when they felt the castle's wards quake, signaling the use of an unforgivable curse within its walls. Immediately, the Headmaster threw the blue floo powder he hoped to never need into his fireplace, transporting them directly to the room containing the curse. Wands out, they saw the dark potions' master standing above the prone, limp form of Professor Granger. Professor Snape complexion was white and clammy, his own wand dangling limply from his fingers.

The office door, having not been fully closed in Hermione's haste to enter the room, allowed Duke to see the events unfold before him - transmitting them back to Philip Parkinson and Lucius Malfoy.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. No infringement is intended.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

It had been years since he heard that quiet, commanding, hissing voice that inspired fear in the most powerful and left lesser men quaking in their boots. The hairless serpent of a once whole man need only enter a room for the temperature to drop, glance at his wand for those around him to feel the burning of his mark on their arms, or smile the cruel, tightlipped smirk that was both intimidating and condescending at the same time.

Severus had tunnel vision as the scene unfolded before him, the office around him fading from his sight. He saw the back of what he knew was himself kneeling before Voldemort alongside his former cohorts in that second reign of terror. The white-blonde hair trailing out from beneath the hood to one side and the wavy salt and pepper hair forcing its way out of the side of another mask left no doubt that Malfoy and Parkinson flanked his image.

His visage was being addressed, asked questions about the inner workings of the Order of the Phoenix. The memory of the tingling, fiery pain that burned his arm in his untruthfulness came back to him as a phantom pain that seemed so real it made him pull his left arm tightly to his body, hugging it closely to his side.

After his initial setback and long hiatus in the Romanian forests, Voldemort had re-branded them all, inking a replica dark mark atop its original; this one, though, punished the bearer with a burning sensation should they be untruthful or misleading in his presence. Severus's long-practiced blank expression saved him time and again from suffering the cruelest of hexes but nothing could ease the searing feeling along his forearm.

For a moment he forgot himself. Lost in the life-size memories, he didn't recognize Hermione's office, or her for that matter. In a combination of reaction and fear, he said the two words that would silence the voices, one in particular. He struggled daily to try and detach himself from that past life, but even in the midst of those tumultuous times, he avoided the unforgivable curses whenever possible. That they flowed so easily from him lips would later infuse even more self doubt.

At the utterance of those words, the images shattered, ending their suffocating presence in the room and allowing the present time to become clear again. As it did, the implications of his actions came crashing upon him in a tidal wave engulfing him. Before him lay the woman who saw him as more than a dark recluse, the one who willingly shared both the trivial and challenging moments of her days, mealtime collusions for catching students out after curfew, and her free weekends dating him.

Her prone form gave him a brief respite from the rejection that would surely come pouring out of her mouth. Severus was sure that she recognized his voice from the memories and would be appalled at his presence and liberties she had unknowingly allowed him to take.

It made his hands tremble at the impending loss. How many times had he considered revealing that part of himself. If only he had been afforded the opportunity to explain things on his own terms; Hermione learning of his shameful past in such a way would leave him alienated and alone - just like every other time in his life.

No one had ever stopped him from telling her, but the time had never been right. She began as a colleague, one whom he had no intention of dredging up the past with; then, Hermione became his friend. Again, why ruin what he had just found? Something had changed, though . . . they crossed that imaginary line into something more. What they had was too fragile to mar with the ugliness of his indiscretions. Regardless of the assurance Dumbledore and others gave him, they were blissfully oblivious to the specifics of his time while spying. The full measure of his actions would now need to be presented to Hermione, the one person whose acceptance he truly wanted.

He'd actually considered telling her, but either the time or place was never right. If he told her while patrolling one Sunday night, then she would have to endure his presence with no escape until their duties were complete. Though he hoped it wouldn't happen, he felt she deserved to be told in a manner that would leave her free to storm out and escape his presence if it became too much. Many a nightmare woke him as of late with just such an occurrence happening.

It was an awful subject to discuss on her birthday, and certainly not the most romantic of conversations while holding her and staring up at the stars. Their relationship was too new, a fledgling that could barely stand let alone hold the weight of his past.

And, the ministry . . maybe Umbridge had unknowingly helped to postpone the inevitable. He and Hermione had united against a common foe, pairing them together once again as they had been at the Fall Gala. Now, though, that decision had been taken from him with his rash reaction to the projected memories.

The radiant blue flames were an ironic contrast to the normal green ones signaling floo travel. Severus, himself, designed the powder to be easily distinguished from the glow of the unforgivable curse he just uttered. His body felt limp, and it took all of his remaining strength to turn his head to the left where his eyes met those of the headmaster. His arms remained hanging uselessly at his sides; the grip on his wand loosened to the point where it was precariously close to dropping to the floor. It would have been no less useful from the cold, stone floor than where it was now.

In a matter of seconds Albus quickly surveyed the Charms Mistress's office, his eyes catching the various sights within the room: the slightly open door, shards of ceramic still sliding across the stone floors as if the original object had been violently destroyed, a hazy mist that signaled the premature ending of a pensieve memory, Severus standing in a state of shock with a grief stricken look on his face, and across from the fireplace Professor Granger lay with a small pool of blood matting the back of her curly hair.

Seeing no dangerous person in the medium sized office, the headmaster stepped fully into the room allowing Minerva to become visible for the first time. With a wave of his arm, Albus wandlessly and silently closed the door.

With an unspoken acknowledgment, Professor McGonagall moved toward Hermione, carefully lifting her head to assess the injury. "She'll need to see Madam Pomfrey at once."

"I'll send for her." His phoenix patronus paused to hear the message before flying out of the open window in the direction of the infirmary.

Poppy jumped out of the fireplace with more exuberance than a woman her age should have been able to manage. "Where is she?" The words escaped her even as she started moving toward Hermione.

She worked quickly to stem the blood flow before healing the gash on the back of her head. "I'll need to take her with me," she muttered as she prepared to leave the office.

"Discretion is of the utmost importance," Dumbledore interjected in a tone that conveyed all of his considerable authority.

Nodding, Madam Pomfrey cast levitating and disillusionment charms as she hastily left without a backward glance or speaking to the fourth person in the room.

It had been a considerable number of years since Albus and Minerva were needed to clean up in the wake of one of Severus's moods, but they worked seamlessly as he mended the pensieve and she dissolved the remaining smoky vapors in the room. The blood stain would remain as it couldn't be vanished so easily.

Severus didn't remember moving but somehow he was no longer standing in the middle of her office. He found himself sitting in _Hermione's_ chair with his arms propped on _her_ desk. The tiny ceramic owl he'd given her the night before classes began stood in a prominent spot staring unblinkingly back at him.

The dejection on Severus's face and the lost look in his dull, brown eyes made Dumbledore pause before approaching him. Albus knew that the younger man in front of him would speak in full if just allowed to begin on his own terms.

After nearly ten minutes of silence, save for the nervous tapping of Minerva's toes, he began to speak.

"I've lost her . . . I said those words and now she's gone . . . forever . . ." His voice cracked over the words as his labored breathing interrupted him.

In broken phrases and long stretches of silence, Severus recounted the events of the evening. From Hermione's explanation of finding the vial, to the two of them watching the Death Eater meeting transpire, to his inexcusable action, he spared no detail. Finally, having no more to say, he crumpled forward onto the desk a broken man. His hand aimlessly sought the little owl, patting the desk top in his blind reach until he found it, squeezing the owl tightly in his fist. His sorrow and ache were almost palpable. The waves of remorse were wafting off of him, seeping into the room's other occupants.

"I never told her, and now I'll not get the chance."

Severus was a fiercely private man, and to admit such feelings and be so demonstrative spoke volumes about his affection for their new Charm's Mistress.

"She's special . . Hermione is not your average witch, Severus. I fear you give her too little credit."

Not even realizing that his wand was missing, Severus accepted it back from the headmaster who undoubtedly took it upon first entering the office.

"Don't make the mistake of misjudging her before she has a say in all of this," Albus concluded with a consoling hand to Severus's slumped shoulder.

Minerva offered similar sentiments in parting before they took their leave through the fireplace. "Remember her words from that first day - in the interview. She understands the difference in the mark and a servant."

Without looking up, Severus relaxed his hand only to readjust the owl and cling to it once more. His eyes eventually opening and landing on the reddish-brown stain coloring the floor where Hermione had lain.

* * *

Duke fled from Hogwarts' castle the moment the Charms office door closed. Reporting back to his master, Parkinson and Malfoy took the time to savor their handiwork. Not only had they created a rift between Severus and that young woman, they managed to push him over the edge. He would surly not escape Azkaban for the murder of a woman, a Hogwarts' professor no less. And, in the vicinity of so many ministry children. Raising their tumblers, they charged their glasses in a toast to their ultimate victory.

In their haste to summon Duke, they failed to see Madam Pomfrey exit the office while following a shimmering, yet almost invisible form.


	20. Chapter 20

_A big 'thank you' for the reviews! They are much appreciated :)_

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Hermione awoke disoriented and in a room that clearly wasn't her own. For the few moments it took her body to adjust to being awake, her sleepy eyes took in her surroundings. The room had a bed in it, but it was far from being the cozy bedroom she had in her quarters; the comforter had a wild floral print that she had yet to see replicated in nature; the night stand next to the bed was empty except for the small blue cup, her wand, and the bracelet she put on each morning. It reminded her of a hotel room, only much smaller and more sparsely furnished.

There was one window, but having grown up in the magical world, she knew that the amount of light and even the time of day could be manipulated so she couldn't gage what part of the day it was.

But, despite the foreign surroundings, she felt secure and safe.

Stretching, she raised her arms high above her head until her fingers brushed the wooden headboard and extended her legs until they were as straight as she could get them, even pointing her toes to stretch a bit further. Her muscles felt so tight and stiff.

And then, she remembered . . .

_During her final year at The Greater European School for Academia, Death Eaters had stormed their way into the Headmaster's office. Hermione never found out exactly what they were looking for, but apparently their search had been in vain. She had the misfortune, along with two of her dorm mates, of finding them tearing apart the professors' offices along the main teaching corridor. _

_The three of them came face to face with a stout, burly man who towered over them in his black robes. His Death Eater mask had been pushed high on his forehead so as not to impede his task; they saw every freckle, scar, even the slight bump on his previously broken nose. _

_A vein began to pulse along his temple at the sight of Hermione and her friends. A malicious snarl revealed his stained teeth before he sent a sweeping curse at the three of them. Every nerve ending seemed to be set afire as the curse hit; her back, now laying on the stone hallway, felt like it had been pushed onto a bed of nails. _

_The screams of her friends echoed in her ears as she struggled to clench her wand, all the while feeling the stinging sensation within her closing hand. A barely whispered 'finite' ended the curse on her, but it wasn't strong enough to help the others. _

_The auburn scruff that grew in patchy splotches across the Death Eater's face scrunched up as he prepared to send a second curse in their direction. He opened his dirty mouth again, but this time another voice spoke. _

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

_The Death Eater's body fell toward them, collapsing like a sack of potatoes. Hermione managed to avoid being pinned under him by rolling slightly to the side. As she moved, she caught sight of another, more wiry Death Eater standing in the wake of his . . comrade? friend? cohort? Hermione didn't know the hierarchy nor did she care at the moment. _

_His robe and mask firmly in place, he let his dark eyes shift quickly to the left and back to the right, pausing to look over each girl. He made direct eye contact with Hermione, nodding ever-so-slightly before stepping over them and disappearing down the corridor._

Until a little while ago, Hermione never connected the voice of that mysterious Death Eater with the face that sat beside her at every meal in the Great Hall. Those two words coming from the same lips that kissed hers so tenderly and passionately.

The images from the pensieve projection must have been from before that day in the Greater European school corridor because she saw the mangy auburn hair poking out from beneath one of the hoods in the memory.

Hermione was brought out of her revery when Madam Pomfrey ever so quietly entered the room. "How are you feeling, Professor?"

"Stiff . . and a little tired. But, other than that, I feel fine." Stretching one more time, she paused before asking, "Where am I exactly? I don't remember seeing this place when I toured the school back in the summer."

Poppy helped her sit up, stacking her pillows behind her as she answered. "These rooms are in the infirmary but are reserved for the professors."

Perching on the edge of her bed, she continued, "When the students are brought in, they usually come in groups; sometimes an accident in the dungeons when a potion goes awry leaves several students needing the same kind of treatment. Quidditch Saturdays are particularly busy days. But, the injuries are of the same nature so they can be healed more quickly when they are close by.

"Professors, though, need more privacy and time away from the students."

Looking down at her pajamas, Hermione couldn't agree more with her. As she reached up to smooth down her hair, she felt a dried gel hardening that contrasted with the softer hair around it. "What's this?"

"I'm not sure how much you remember about last night," she said delicately, "but when I was called to your office you had collapsed onto the floor and hit your head. After cleaning the cut, I healed it and put a salve to diminish the scar which will help your hair grow without interruption."

Madam Pomfrey sat for a moment longer. When Hermione didn't offer any details from earlier in the evening, she took her leave, assuring Hermione that she would be able to return to her quarters shortly.

OoOoOoO

While Hermione spent a quiet remainder of the Sunday in her rooms, Severus secluded himself in his dungeon office. He couldn't bear to visit her while in Madam Pomfrey's care. If she was going to condemn him for his life as a Death Eater and hate him for hiding this, then he'd rather be away from the matron's prying eyes.

Not only did he feel guilty about withholding this from her, but he had scared her into believing he was aiming his wand at her. The shocked look that widened her eyes and held her frozen before she collapsed had broken his heart. It sickened him to even think about - a man should never hurt a woman, raise his wand in anger and curse her. Getting her to hear him out would be virtually impossible now. What woman would willingly enter a room alone with him if she thought she was about to be hexed?

He viscously marked through sentence after sentence of the essay in front of him. This one was as bad as the other fifteen from its class.

By the time he finished, it looked like his red quill had bled all over the paper. 'Dunderhead,' he thought before starting on the next one.

In the back of his mind, he heard Albus and Minerva's words repeating themselves. Sure, Hermione had theoretically reasoned that someone with the dark mark could be different than those who truly followed the Dark Lord. But, that was before she knew that he had been one of _them_.

Tossing aside the seventeenth 'Poor' essay, he redoubled his efforts to complete the grading. 'If they could only answer the question properly!' he thought. At one point, Severus had to open a second bottle of red ink so that he could continue grading.

The roar of the fireplace finally brought his gaze away from the red-stained mess before him.

"Ah, Severus. Catching up on your grading, I see." Dusting the soot from his robes, Dumbledore walked forward as he continued, "In my time, I found it difficult to be objective unless I read the essays through twice; no rush to condemn, you see."

Severus raised his hand to wipe the perspiration from his brow when he noticed the ink that had leaked onto his fingers and smeared along the side of his hand from rubbing it across the papers. Pausing, he withdrew his handkerchief instead.

"What did you need, other than to bother me while marking papers?" Severus's tone mimicked his usual exasperation, but this time it lacked the bite behind it.

"Straight forward as always," Dumbledore replied pleasantly. "But, as you are so eager . . I am here to accompany you on your rounds tonight."

Dumbledore's voice faded in Severus's ears as he suddenly remembered that he and Hermione were scheduled to patrol the castle tonight. The distraction the essays had given him no longer chased away his thoughts of . . .

Dumbledore's voice became clear once again, " . . . no rush to condemn . . . ." before fading.

Severus also remembered that it was Hermione's week to set the wager between them. After the last patrol, she decided to bet on something other than the Slytherins being out after curfew. She claimed that despite enjoying the _fruits _of his victory, she didn't intend to lose again.

Just the other night at dinner she had smugly admitted that she had decided on the wager. That confident air and challenging look in her eyes was dead sexy. He half-heartedly tried guessing, but the smile she sent his way deterred him from trying too hard.

Now, though, there would be no guesses or wagers or stops by her office.

Slowly, he draped his heavier robe around him and joined Dumbledore in the cool dungeon corridor.

Up and down every long corridor, hallway, and classroom the two went, searching for anything out of place. The night grew even more tedious for Severus as Albus insisted on filling the silence with stories from his younger days at Hogwarts. First there was the time he and his friends discovered the never-ending passageway that spiraled between the two layers of brick composing the castle walls. Apparently, there was only one door, leaving he and his friends to circumvent the entire castle before exiting right where they began. Then there was the time he stumbled upon some broom closet filled with chamber pots. Another time, he discovered a roof deck situated above even the Astronomy Tower. On and on it went with every level of the castle being examined on their rounds.

Severus's thoughts kept straying back to Hermione and their patrols together. The time had passed quickly, much too fast for his liking. Unfortunately, it seemed that the headmaster would be working beside him until a new schedule could be drawn up.

While the headmaster and one of his deputies roamed the castle, the second deputy arrived at Hermione's living quarters. "Hermione, it's so good to see you up and around. Are you feeling well enough for company?"

Hermione wanted to say a resounding 'no' but how did one dismiss the deputy headmistress? As cordially as possible, she invited Minerva in, only intending to talk for a few minutes.

"You're looking so much better," Minerva said with genuine affection. "I stopped by the infirmary but Poppy had already dismissed you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

The kindness Minerva extended to her made Hermione feel guilty about rushing her out, even though she had rounds to attend to and a potions master to talk with. "Thank you for your concern. I'm much better, though, and the cut on my head is completely healed . . ."

Half an hour later Hermione found herself alone once again in her quarters after feigning tiredness. Minerva had fled at the first yawn she managed to force out.

Glancing at the clock on the mantle, she surmised that the patrol should be about half finished. If Severus and Dumbledore followed their usual route, starting from the dungeons and working upward before reversing their path, then they should be arriving at the Astronomy Tower soon.

She rushed to clasp her teaching robes over the less formal jeans and light sweater she was wearing. Since she wasn't looking for students lurking out-of-bounds, Hermione took the most direct path and moved toward the tower.

Panting slightly at the speed of her ascent, Hermione stopped suddenly at the sight of the two men in front of her. She was so determined to find him that she hadn't fully prepared what she wanted to say. Locking eyes with the Professor, Hermione saw the uncertainty that she herself felt.

Severus felt very diminutive in her presence. He hadn't envisioned meeting her for the first time since the incident while standing in the Astronomy Tower with the headmaster. His voice left him as he stared at her.

The heavy silence was broken when Dumbledore asked her something. Had she been paying attention, she might have shown the courtesy to respond. As it was, Professor Dumbledore excused himself, assuring them both that he would complete the patrol on his own.

While they were focused on one another, they each had the presence of mind to refrain from speaking until the headmaster left. No sooner had the tail of his cloak disappeared than they said simultaneously, "I'm sorry" "Thank you".

Of all of the bizarre outcomes that they imagined, neither was prepared for what the other had just said.

Tentatively, he began, "If you'll allow me, I'll make a place for us to sit and we can talk. If you feel comfortable?" Severus spoke with an unfamiliar humility.

Hermione nodded and watched as he withdrew a red-stained handkerchief, which he cleaned before she had the opportunity to ask if there had been an accident. He transfigured the small cloth into a large black and emerald green quilt that he spread out on the floor beneath one of the open window frames.

Hermione's eyes fluttered at the touch of his hand as he guided her to be seated. Taking careful measure to leave distance between them, Severus situated himself with his back leaning against the cold stone wall.

Thinking that this was one of the few occasions where the adage 'ladies first' was not applicable, Severus cleared his throat and began. "I want to say I'm sorry, but before I can, you should know all that I am apologizing for . . ."

Severus explained how he came to be involved with the Dark Lord and took the mark on his arm, of his turncoat status that left him vulnerable from both sides, the devotion he showed to the light side and Dumbledore in particular, and his reasons for not sharing this with her sooner. "It is not something that I make a practice of sharing, and those who are already aware also know of my reluctance to discuss that time in my life. It is my fault for not finding . . no, making time confide in you.

"And when I saw the Death Eater meeting emerge from the pensieve, I silenced it not solely out of fear that you would finally learn the truth about me, but out of instinct to protect myself and those around me. To take care . . of you." The last words he whispered quietly while watching his hand run along a seam in the blanket below his raised knee.

"I know you must hate me for the life I've . . Hermione, how can you bear to sit with me now?" The confusion and pain was evident, with him making no attempt to hide it.

"Severus, I want to thank you." Hermione considered taking his hand to reassure him of the truth of her words but she feared he might reject her advance. "But before I do, you should understand what I'm thankful for."

She saw him smirk in spite of his other feelings before letting it slide from his face.

"We've met before . . in another time and in another place. During the war, the Greater European School was infiltrated by Death Eaters and I was one of the unlucky ones to stumble upon their raid.

"You may not remember this, but as I was laying on the ground being cursed, I've not forgotten it. Just as this oaf-of-a-man was bearing down upon us, his words were silenced by another Death Eater behind him. With two words, we were spared.

"Until you destroyed that pensieve memory," she saw him wince at her choice of words, "I had never placed that man who saved us. But that was you, wasn't it?"

Severus remembered the attack on the school very clearly. The Dark Lord had sent them to retrieve Grindlewald's nephew, his sister's only son, in hopes of finding the elder wand. When their search ended in vain, they scoured the other offices looking for anything that would placate the Dark Lord and prevent his wrath from befalling them.

Killing Reinfold, though, had all but escaped his memory. Not because he killed so many people that they were indistinguishable, in fact he had only killed three men in his time of 'service', rather the raid of the school was only the first of many equally unsuccessful stops that night.

"Yes, it was me," he admitted quietly. Adding murder in her sight to his list of transgressions, he prepared to issue his apology, as insignificant as it was, to her.

With his head ducked, eyes on the green and black patterns below them, he missed her smile. Before he could speak again, Hermione continued. "Thank you for saving me that day. I knew you were no ordinary Death Eater to do such a thing. An act of treason would not have warranted helping three young women. I knew there was more . . ."

"How could you know?" His question held more emotion, as if he was hoping her answer could absolve him of the demons that had been tormenting him for so long.

"I don't know that I can explain it any better." She paused, then added with a thoughtful expression, "My entire view of the war changed that day. It had changed from black and white, us versus them, to a clouded area of grey.

"And, somewhere along the way, I focused on that kindness, the risk you must have taken and channeled it into my work. The charm and potion combination that we've discussed so many times is derived from my desire to help those like that man . . that . . you."

Severus could hardly believe what she was saying; she could see past the ugliness of his position as a Death Eater and saw the value of his status as a spy. He almost believed her, until he recalled her reaction to his actions in her office.

"But that all changed, didn't it?" Rather than waiting for her to respond, he stood up and began pacing around the circular room. "You believed that I would curse you . . ."

Hermione stood as well, her heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. "I was shocked to learn of you, that you were the same man I knew before. I couldn't say anything, though, because the force of the memory shattering knocked me down."

Seeing that he was about to blame himself again, Hermione silenced him with a hand on his arm, his left arm that bore the mark of his earlier life. "You are not at fault."

He stared into her eyes, looking, searching for anything that would reveal a contradiction to her words. When he found nothing insincere, only the open truth of her words, he finally allowed himself the deep breath of relief. His heart began to beat faster; the constriction in his chest lessened; the weight of his secrets dissolving.

No words came to him; his usual eloquence momentarily left him. So, he let his actions convey what his words could not. Severus pulled her tightly to his chest, kissing her more deeply than he ever had in the past. He was lost in the kiss - they both were. Reaching up to tangle his hand into her hair, he heard a slight whimper and relaxed his hand while moving his face back from hers. He never dropped his arms, continuing to hold her close.

"It's still a little tender," she said quietly. The last thing Hermione wanted to do was cause him to pull away, but she couldn't help it.

Severus ended their night, escorting her back to her rooms with the assurance that he would meet her for breakfast the next morning.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:** The previously posted chapters are coming to a close, and the new ones will be added as they are written. You can expect that the chapters won't be posted as frequently as these have been.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, and 'favoriting' my story :) It's always encouraging to know that others like the stories you write.

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

At the staff table the following morning at breakfast, no one, save for the ghosts, saw Hermione and Severus arrive together. Having been the first ones in the Great Hall, the others missed Severus's gentlemanly arm wrapped loosely around her hand; they couldn't hear the fondness in her quiet voice as she thanked him for holding her chair as she sat, resulting in something that would never be seen by the students - a genuine smile from the fearsome professor to the new Charms mistress.

As it was, by the time the staff and students started filing into the Great Hall, it soon became too crowded to notice anyone's arrival. The Potions and Charms professors stoically ate their meals with their game faces carefully intact.

For him, he'd rather earn the snarky bat-of-the-dungeons nickname than even hint at his personal life; so, he looked as he did every morning at breakfast - grouchy and ill-tempered. For Hermione, she, too, wanted to maintain the strict persona that had served her well thus far. And, while they had spoken about their 'game faces', they were unaware of the students' ever growing comparisons of the two.

In the corridor near the morning breakfast, a rather impromptu meeting with Sybil Trelawny delayed Dumbledore. He preferred to be the first, or at least among the first to be seated. It gave him an opportunity to 'people watch' as he liked to call it. So much information could be gleaned from observing the ways that the students, and staff for that matter, interacted with one another.

His curiosity about Hermione's reaction to Severus had piqued his interest, and he fully intended to let his eyes twinkle their brightest in the way that irritated Severus the most when the time came for a sly 'I told you so' regarding Hermione's acceptance of him.

That chance didn't happen, though. The stiffness of the postures of the two worried him. At one point, Hermione asked rather dully for the jam to be passed and Severus hadn't even bothered to turn in her direction when placing it in front of her plate.

They were anti-social at best, and this concerned the headmaster more than it probably should have. He'd been so certain that the two would be able to resolve their problems that he'd actually gotten a very good night's sleep after completing his rounds last night.

When he saw Professor Granger leave with her robes whipping behind her from the fast-paced exit she was making, he knew something must be done. Surely he couldn't have underestimated her, but perhaps it was Severus who couldn't accept his own actions or her forgiveness. Either way, he planned to rectify the situation.

Looking forward, down the length of the Great Hall, he could see the over sized hourglasses that contained the precious gems denoting each house's points. Gryffindor and Slytherin were marginally ahead of the other two houses. Almost as if they realized they were being watched, a handful of emeralds rose, refilling the upper portion of the Slytherins' hourglass. It seemed as if Professor Granger was treating Severus's house much as they were treating one another. By the end of the day, though, Dumbledore wondered how many of the green gems would remain.

Suddenly, it came to him. The perfect way to 'encourage' Severus and Hermione. Of course, he really should tell Minerva since she's the deputy headmistress. But, that would mean he had to inform Severus, too. And, that could interfere with the plan forming in his mind. A little more thought perhaps . . . .

Hermione's classes were becoming more difficult to teach with each passing chapter. The past two weeks had been particularly trying. Despite her best efforts to look and exemplify the part of the challenging teacher, the younger students were growing less wary of her and sought to push the limits within her classroom.

The third year Slytherins and Gryffindors who met during the last class, three days a week were exhausting. Not a class period went by that one of the Slytherins didn't attempt to charm some portion of their counterparts' uniforms green. There seemed to be two boys who acted as the ringleaders: one who tried his hardest to distract her while the other whispered the 'hex of the day'.

She caught them numerous times, deducted house points, and even had them serving detentions. But, they refused to behave.

This, of course, led to retaliation by the Gryffindors. They, however, were respectful enough to obey in the classroom.

The sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins brought about their own batch of problems. Whenever one of the Ravenclaw students would be the first go master a new skill, she automatically awarded ten points as she did for anyone in the same situation. The Slytherins, though, had made a joke of her praise and resolutely refused to try hard enough to garner her attention; instead, they muttered snide remarks at the others.

At the end of class last week, the girl who received ten points for the lesson stayed after they had been dismissed.

"Ms. Granger, um . . would you please stop giving me points in your class?"

Hermione was astounded that any student would ask such a thing. When pressed for an explanation, the girl simply said that it would keep the Slytherins from making fun of her.

She was livid that the untold amounts of detentions with Filch hadn't corrected any of their behavior. And, while they were careful to keep any hateful words under their breaths while in her classroom today, Hermione was hard-pressed to find a solution for their actions elsewhere.

In an attempt to correct their lack of effort and respect, Hermione had poured extra homework on the classes. Unfortunately, this not only affected the Slytherins, but all of those who happened to be in the same classes with them.

She had lost count of the number of points she deducted each day. At first, she tried keeping a ledger detailing the number of points given and taken away from each house. She had been warned in her training classes that it would be easy to allow favoritism to cloud one's judgement, so she used the self-imposed method of maintaining fairness.

Today, alone, she took seventy-five points from the Slytherins collectively.

The actions of the Slytherins over the past weeks were becoming too much. If any other house had caused her such problems, collectively, she wouldn't have hesitated to approach their head-of-house. As Severus was in charge of the Slytherins, though, she didn't want to run to him with the problems she should be able to handle. It wasn't his place to stick up for her or dole out the discipline in her classroom.

She flushed with embarrassment at the mere thought of dumping this problem at his doorstep. She was working too hard to be the independent, stern, and poised professor, and she worried that his intervention might be seen as a sign of weakness by the students.

Today had been muggy and rainy so the students were confined to the castle more than usual. This only added to their restlessness on a day that Hermione really hoped would be uneventful, especially after the long weekend that was anything but ordinary.

With the stress of the classes weighing heavily on her, Hermione made a detour to the staff lounge before dinner. It was quiet, empty of the incessant chatter that had consumed the hallways all day. The tall grandfather clock angled squarely in the far corner of the room gave a rhythmic, steady beat that soothed her frazzled nerves.

Wanting to take advantage of the current solitude, she selected her favorite set of darts from the shelf and counted the exact number of paces away from the board before turning and allowing all of her attention and focus to be channeled into the game.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Three tosses and three hits. Well, they didn't hit the wall anyway and they managed to stick into the dart board.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

With a sigh, she retrieved the darts again. The light caught the flags on the end of the darts in her hand, making them shimmer as they rolled back and forth. Their green color set them apart from the remaining sets still laying on the shelf. From the first time she ventured into the lounge, she had always chosen them and had come to think of them as 'her' darts.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

If only things were as simple and straightforward as this game of darts.

Thunk.

If only the students would realize how important their lessons were.

Thunk.

If only they could leave their petty jealousies and aggravation outside of her classroom.

Ting. Ugh!

She pried the first two darts from the board before turning to pick the third up from the floor. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips when she noticed a pair of dark eyes watching her. How long he'd been there, she didn't know. She also wasn't sure he was the person she wanted to talk to right now.

Severus peaked into the staff lounge on his way through the upper floors to the Charms corridor. He almost walked by the room completely when he caught a glimpse of Hermione hurling darts at the well-worn board.

He stepped inside, closer to the mismatched chairs and watched her take aim once again.

The green shimmer caught his eye, making him smirk at her choice of darts. He was actually the one to hang the dart board in the lounge many years ago. It came with a set of darts that were as good as any free thing could be. He'd searched through several shops in both Hogsmead and Diagon Alley before he found a satisfactory set.

He found it odd that first evening to hear Hermione ask him to play a game that had essentially been his, and to offer him the other sets of darts that he himself had purchased and discarded in the pursuit of the perfect ones. It looked like tonight would be no different, especially since the green flags were flying from her hand.

As he was so focused on the game, he missed the slightly panicked looked on Hermione's face.

In that split second that she realized she wasn't alone, Hermione decided to push aside her work problems and keep her relationship with Severus completely separate from anything else that was going on.

So, with a small smile, she nodded toward the board in a silent invitation to join her.

Severus nearly chuckled out loud at the gesture but, instead, took the dart from her hand and bumped her shoulder with his as he took her place behind the marker line.

OoOoOoO

Dinner in the Great Hall passed much as breakfast had, with the exceptions that Headmaster Dumbledore took special care to arrive ten minutes early as to avoid another strange emergency that Professor Trelawny felt only he could handle and the Slytherin hourglass holding fewer emeralds in the lower globe.

When Severus stepped aside to allow Hermione to walk in front of him as they used the staff entrance, he saw Dumbledore's twinkling eyes and immediately deepened his trademark scowl. He had the feeling that Dumbledore had been watching the door for a while now. His suspicions were confirmed when Albus announced to the staff that a special meeting would be held tonight at nine.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**More Than Expected - by Clover Bay**

Their reactions to Albus Dumbledore's announcement that night at the staff meeting varied.

Minerva McGonagall fussed only momentarily for not being informed earlier before she joined in and shared Dumbledore's excitement.

Madam Pomfrey silently calculated the number of hang-over potions she should secure from Severus before the end of the month.

Professor Sprout quickly threw her hand in the air, exuberantly volunteering to procure the enchanted pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns for the festivities.

Stephen McClanahan, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, tried to appear disinterested, but agreeable; his initial smile, though, belied at least some excitement at Dumbledore's idea.

Hermione sat expressionless; inside, she was seething at the countless number of hours she and the students would spend focusing on such a frivolous event. She really wasn't against the students having fun; in fact, had she been a student, she would have thought the headmasters' idea was wonderful. But, from the position of a teacher, time was against her this year and the last thing she wanted was another interruption.

Severus clenched his fingers around the claw-like wooden arm rest of his chair. His knuckles were turning steadily whiter as Albus continued to regale them with his latest, oh-so-marvelous idea.

"And now its time for our assignments," Dumbledore said, his gaze pausing a moment too long on Severus and Hermione. "Since we want to make the Halloween feast a grander celebration, we will divide the responsibilities . . . ."

OoOoOoO

As they strode through the castle patrolling the halls, Hermione and Severus moved at a fast, purposeful pace. Neither noticed how quickly they were completing their rounds as they marched down one corridor and up the next, their wands maintaining an almost constant glowing light from all of the 'lumos' spells being cast and shown into the darker recesses of their path. No student, regardless of house, was spared from the two professors' aggressive patrol.

Hermione mumbled occasionally under her breath; the few discernable words that made their way to Severus's ears left him chuckling at the colorful vocabulary he hadn't expected from his colleague.

Severus smirked at her indignation, silently agreeing with her in principle. But, he saw through the old man's meddling attempts. He quickly realized that Albus paired he and Hermione together for each of their assignments; Albus was probably trying to 'help' Hermione see past the memories from the pensieve. Little did he know that his efforts were unnecessary.

He reached over and tugged on the sleeve of her robe just as she was turning down yet another corridor. With a nod of his head, he motioned in the opposite direction. "Let's take a detour. I doubt there are any students left out at this hour who haven't been warned of our presence."

She sighed, her shoulders visibly drooping in resignation as some of the tension seemed to have escaped her. "Okay. It's not like anything can be changed at this point."

"Indeed," Severus agreed as Hermione cut her eyes at him, gracing him with the beginnings of a smile.

"I have a theory as to the timing of the newly planned festivities," he began.

"Then, please, go on," she encouraged, now matching him step for step as they moved toward the dungeon level of the castle.

"The Headmaster, I believe, has fallen into his somewhat reliable pattern of playing matchmaker. He hopes that by throwing us together as we prepare for Halloween, that you might be able to . ." he cleared his throat before continuing more quietly, " . . forgive me for my earlier transgressions."

"But I've told you already, there's nothing to forgive," Hermione interrupted him stubbornly.

He was once again heartened by her words; she was a remarkable woman to be able to see past his numerous faults. "As I said, they are his intentions as I understand them." He paused again before tugging on her sleeve a second time to lead them to his private potions' laboratory.

"I am truly glad that is your opinion, though," he said sincerely as his voice trailed off. He made a complicated pattern with his wand to unward the door, then stepped aside to allow Hermione to enter first.

"It is more than an opinion," she stated quietly, yet firmly before letting the matter drop and walking through the newly opened door.

Her eyes adjusted to the brightened room and she stopped abruptly, in awe of the magnificent work space before her. Her previous tinkering and developing of potions had been in the confines of the university's common lab space; privacy was virtually nonexistent as was the ability to acquire rare ingredients.

Before her, though, lay a potions' lab large enough for four to work comfortably, with one entire wall devoted to jars, canisters, and packages of neatly labeled supplies. A wooden trap door with a large iron ring for a handle was in the far corner, undoubtedly housing climate sensitive items that had to maintain cooler temperatures.

Cauldrons made of every conceivable material, mortars and pestles in varying sizes, and countless tools were aligned neatly beside each work space. The drawers tucked under the tables were also labeled with what she recognized as the Professor's slanted script.

Severus almost bumped into her as stopped only a few feet inside the door. As he stepped around her, he noticed that she had a look of awe and wonder that brightened her already pretty face. He watched as she moved slowly around the room, letting her hand glide along the smooth tables as she admired the place that he felt most comfortable in the entire castle.

He knew she would need a moment to acquaint herself with the lab, so he removed his teaching robes and tied a small elastic band around his hair in preparation for brewing.

If the Professor had said anything in the last five minutes, Hermione completely missed it. She turned to see an amused smile on his face and his shoulder-length hair already pulled back with a neat black tie.

"This place is . . ." At a loss for words, Hermione removed her own teaching robes and hung them on the small coat rack by the door.

". . . my escape from the stress of the castle," Severus finished for her. "It is also where I am able to work on my research and the development of new potions. My last three discoveries have come on nights such as this."

They pulled out adjacent stools at the nearest work table and made themselves comfortable, each discussing their most recent endeavors. Soon, their conversation shifted to the dark mark removal potion that Hermione was perfecting.

It wasn't until several hours later that they returned to the main floors of the castle, having decided to meet again the following evening under the guise of collecting supplies for the Halloween carnival and party to venture into Hogsmeade to purchase another few kilograms of anglefire flowers.

After all, Severus had said, the Headmaster wanted them to spend time together. Hermione could find no fault with his reasoning, not that she wanted to, and left him slightly breathless as he escorted her back to her quarters for the night.


End file.
